In His good time, the zunny spring,
An' leaves, an' young vo'k vull o' glee
A-dancèn roun' the woaken tree.
True love's the ivy that do twine
Unwith'rèn roun' his mossy rine,
When winter's zickly zun do sheen
Upon its leaves o' glossy green,
So patiently a-holdèn vast
Till storms an' cwold be all a-past,
An' only livèn vor to be