An' at the hawthorn-tree stood still,
To zee J. L. vor Jessie Lee,
An' my T. D., at Meldonley.
The grey-poll'd bennet-stems did hem
Each half-hid letter's zunken rim,
By leädy's-vingers that did spread
In yollow red, at Meldonley.
An' heärebells there wi' light blue bell
Shook soundless on the letter L,
To ment the bells when L vor Lee