Green meäds, an' zummerleäzes brown,
An' thorns upon the zunny down,
While aïer, vrom the rockèn zedge
In brook, did come along the hedge,
Where we did keep our flagon.
There laughèn chaps did try in plaÿ
To bury maïdens up in haÿ,
As gigglèn maïdens tried to roll
The chaps down into zome deep hole,
Or sting wi' nettles woone o'm's poll;