That leätely wer so high, O,
Wi' little tinklèn sounds do vall
In roun' the stwones half dry, O;
While twilight ha' sich aïr in store,
To cool our zunburnt skin, O,
We'll have a ramble out o' door,
When night's a-zettèn in, O.
THE WEATHER-BEATEN TREE.
The woaken tree, a-beät at night