#EnglishWriters
Sweet Woodley! oh! how fresh an’… Thy leaenes an’ vields be now in… The while the broad-leav’d clotes… In brooks wi’ gil’cups at the brim… An’ yollow cowslip-beds do grow
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,
Woone’s heart mid leaep wi’ though… In comen manhood light an’ gay When we do teaeke the worold on Vrom our vore-elders dead an’ gone… But days so feaeir in hope’s brigh…
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…
When sycamore leaves wer a-spreade… Green-ruddy, in hedges, Bezide the red doust o’ the ridges… A-dried at Woak Hill; I packed up my goods all a-sheenen
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…
Aye, the girt elem tree out in lit… Wer a-stannen this mornen, an’ now… Aye, the girt elem tree, so big ro… Where the mowers did goo to their… In the sheaede ov his head, when t…
Last night below the elem in the l… Bright the sky did gleam On water blue, while air did softl… On the flowen stream, An’ there wer gil’cups’ buds untwo…
How happy uncle us’d to be O’ zummer time, when aunt an’ he O’ Zunday evenens, eaerm in eaerm… Did walk about their tiny farm, While birds did zing an’ gnats did…
His aunt an’ uncle,—ah! the kind Wold souls be often in my mind: A better couple never stood In shoes, an’ vew be voun’ so good… _She_ cheer’d the work-vo’k in the…
O! Meaery, when the zun went down… Woone night in Spring, wi’ vi’ry… Behind thik nap wi’ woody crown, An’ left your smilen feaece so dim… Your little sister there, inside,
In leaene the gipsies, as we went A-milken, had a-pitch’d their tent… Between the gravel-pit an’ clump O’ trees, upon the little hump: An’ while upon the grassy groun’
Well! thanks to you, my faithful… So worksome wi’ your head an’ hand… We seaeved enough to get ageaen My poor vorefather’s plot o’ land. ‘Twer folly lost, an’ cunnen got,
Vorgi’e me, Jenny, do! an’ rise Thy hangen head an’ teary eyes, An’ speak, vor I’ve a-took in lie… An’ I’ve a-done thee wrong; But I wer twold,—an’ thought 'twe…
My love is the maid ov all maidens… Though all mid be comely, Her skin’s lik’ the jessamy blosso… A-spread in the Spring. Her smile is so sweet as a beaeby’…