#EnglishWriters
And passing here through evening d… He hastened happy to her door, But found the old folk only two With no more footsteps on the floo… To walk again below the skies
If souls should only sheen so brig… In heaven as in e’thly light, An’ nothen better wer the ceaese, How comely still, in sheaepe an’ f… Would many reach thik happy pleaec…
I do seem to zee Grammer as she d… Vor to show us, at Chris’mas, her… An’ her flat spreaden bonnet so bi… As a girt pewter dish a-turn’d ups… When we all did draw near
There’s what the vo’k do call a ve… Out there, lo’k zee. Why, ’tis an… Ah! zoo do seem. I wunder how do… What is it that do meaeke it, I d… Be hang’d if I can tell, I’m sure…
The woaken tree, a-beaet at night By stormy winds wi’ all their spit… Mid toss his lim’s, an’ ply, an’ m… Wi’ unknown struggles all alwone; An’ when the day do show his head,
In happy times a while agoo, My lively hope, that’s now a-gone Did stir my heart the whole year d… But mwost when green-bough’d sprin… When I did rove, wi’ litty veet,
Sweet Be’mi’ster, that bist a-bou… By green an’ woody hills all round… Wi’ hedges, reachen up between A thousan’ vields o’ zummer green, Where elems’ lofty heads do drow
Good morn t’ye, John. How b’ye? h… Zoo you be gwain to market, I do… Why, you be quite a-lwoaded wi’ yo… Ees, Thomas, ees. Why, I’m a-getten rid ov ev’ry go…
Come out to the parrock, come out… The maidens an’ chaps be a-waiten… There’s Jim wi’ his fiddle to pla… Come out along wi’ us, an’ fling u… Come, all the long grass is a-mow’…
When in the evenen the zun’s a-zin… A drowen sheaedes vrom the yollow… An’ mother, weary, 's a-zot a thin… Wi’ vwolded eaerms by the vire at… Then we do zwarm, O,
A. Back here, but now, the jobber Jo… Come by, an’ cried, 'Well done, z… I thought as I come down the hill… An’ heärd your zongs a-ringèn sh’i…
This is a darkish evenen; b’ye a-f… O’ zights? Theaese leaene’s a-hau… No, I be’nt much a-feaer’d. If vo… To over-reach me while they be ali… I don’t much think the dead wull h…
Upon theaese knap I’d sooner be The ivy that do climb the tree, Than bloom the gayest rwose a-tied An’ trimm’d upon the house’s zide. The rwose mid be the maidens’ prid…
Poor Jenny wer her Robert’s bride Two happy years, an’ then he died; An’ zoo the wold vo’k meaede her c… Vorseaeken, to her maiden hwome. But Jenny’s merry tongue wer dum’…
If mem’ry, when our hope’s a-gone, Could bring us dreams to cheat us… Ov happiness our hearts voun’ true In years we come too quickly droug… What days should come to me, but y…