The mossy stwones, that love cut deep
Wi' neämes that tongues noo mwore do sound,
The leäne do lose the stalkèn team,
An' dry-rimm'd waggon-wheels be still,
An' hills do roll their down-shot stream
Below the restèn wheel at mill.
O holy day, when tweil do ceäse,
Sweet day o' rest an' greäce an' peäce!
The eegrass, vor a while unwrung
By hoof or shoe, 's a sheenèn bright,