An' mid she, all her weanèn life,
Or maïd or wife, be loved and blest.
Though I mid never zing anew
To neäme the maïd so feäir an' true,
A-blushèn, wi' a rwose o' red,
Bezide her glossy head.
BLESSENS A-LEFT.
Lik' souls a-toss'd at sea I bore
Sad strokes o' trial, shock by shock,