The blossoms that the zummer shed;
An' near blue sloos an' conkers red
The evenèn zun, a zettèn soon,
Do leäve a-quiv'rèn to the moon,
The meäple leaves so yollow.
Zoo come along, an' let's injaÿ
The last fine weather while do staÿ;
While thou canst hang, wi' ribbons slack,
Thy bonnet down upon thy back,
Avore the winter, cwold an' black,