Wi' sheenèn blue o' glisnèn eyes,
An' feaïrest blossoms do but show
Her forehead's white, an' feäce's glow;
But there's a winsome jaÿ above,
The brightest hues ov e'th an' skies.
The dearest zight o' many eyes,
Would be the smile o' Linda's love;
But high above my lowly love
Is Linda Deäne ov Ellendon.