By crowns o' Do'set Downs, O.
An' now the wheat, in lofty lwoads,
Above the meäres' broad backs,
Do ride along the cracklèn rwoads,
Or dousty waggon-tracks.
An' there, mid every busy pick,
Ha' work enough to do;
An' where, avore, we built woone rick,
Mid theäse year gi'e us two;
Wi' God our friend,