If Grenley Water winded down
Drough two good miles o' my own groun';
If half ov Ashknowle Hill wer brown
Wi' my own corn,—noo growèn pride
Should ever meäke me cast azide
The maïd o' Grenley Water.
THE VEAIRY VEET THAT I DO MEET.
When dewy fall's red leaves do vlee
Along the grass below the tree,