To be blown by the wind out o' door.
Vor he died while the häy russled grey
On the staddle so leätely begun:
Lik' the mown-grass a-dried by the day,—
Aye! the zwath-flow'r's a-killed by the zun.
THE LOVE CHILD.
Where the bridge out at Woodley did stride,
Wi' his wide arches' cool sheäded bow,
Up above the clear brook that did slide