Avore the sparklèn zun is down:

The zummer's gone, an' days so feäir

As theäse be now a-gettèn reäre.

The night, wi' mwore than daylight's sheäre

O' wat'ry sky, do wet wi' dew

The ee-grass up above woone's shoe,

An' meäple leaves be yollow.

The last hot doust, above the road,

An' vu'st dead leaves ha' been a-blow'd

By plaÿsome win's where spring did spread