A-runnèn down to dreve the mill
Below the knap, 's a runnèn still;
The creepèn days an' weeks do vill
Up years, an' meäke wold things o' new,
An' vok' do come, an' live, an' goo,
But rivers don't gi'e out, John.
The leaves that in the spring do shoot
Zo green, in fall be under voot;
Maÿ flow'rs do grow vor June to burn,
An' milk-white blooth o' trees do kern,