She'd nwone, she zaïd, that she could pluck
Avore wild honeyzucks, a-vound
In ev'ry hedge ov ev'ry ground.
Zoo maïd an' woman, bwoy an' man,
Went off, while zunzet aïr did fan
Their merry zunburnt feäzen; zome
Down leäne, an' zome drough parrocks hwome.
Ah! who can tell, that ha'nt a-vound,
The sweets o' week's-end comèn round!
When Zadurday do bring woone's mind