The feäce's bloom, an' turn it white.
An' light a-cast vrom midnight skies
Do blunt the sparklèn ov the eyes.
Vor health do weäke vrom nightly dreams
Below the mornèn's eärly beams,
An' leäve the dead-aïr'd houses' eaves,
Vor quiv'rèn leaves, an' bubblèn streams,
A-glitt'rèn brightly to the view,
Below a sky o' cloudless blue.