An' at our zides did play an' run
My little maïd an' smaller son.
Above the beäten mwold upsprung
The driven doust, a-spreadën light,
An' on the new-leav'd thorn, a-hung,
Wer wool a-quiv'rèn white;
An' corn, a sheenèn bright, did bow,
On slopèn Meldon's zunny brow.
There, down the rufless wall did glow
The zun upon the grassy vloor,