Where hufflèn winds did sheäke the zedge
An' sparklèn weäves did glide.
An' where the river, bend by bend,
Do dräin our meäd, an' mark its end,
The hangèn leäze do teäke our cows,
An' trees do sheäde em wi' their boughs,
An' I the quicker beät the road,
To zee a-comèn into view,
Still greener vrom the sky-line's blue,
Wold Burnley our abode.