An' on the hill, ahead, wer bars

A-showèn dark on high,

Avore, as eet, the evenèn stars

Did twinkle in the sky,

An' then the last sweet evenèn-tide

That my long sheäde vell there,

I went down Brindon's thymy zide,

To my last sleep at Ware.

THE FANCY FEÄIR AT MAÏDEN NEWTON.