My faïth, an' peäce, the gifts o' greäce,
An' freedom still to shift my pleäce.
When I've a-had a tree to screen
My meal-rest vrom the high zunn'd-sky,
Or ivy-holdèn wall between
My head an' win's a-rustlèn by,
I had noo call vor han's to bring
Their seäv'ry daïnties at my nod,
But stoop'd a-drinkèn vrom the spring,
An' took my meal, wi' thanks to God,