Athirt the yield, an' brook, an' stile,
There runnèn childern's hearty laugh
Do come an' vlee along—win' swift:
The wold man's glossy-knobbèd staff
Do help his veet so hard to lift;
The maïd do bear her basket by,
A-hangèn at her breäthèn zide;
An' ceäreless young men, straïght an' spry,
Do whissle hwome at eventide,
Along the path, a-reachèn by