Nor clay a-pullèn off your shoe:
An' we can trig ye at the zide,
To keep ye up if you do slide:
Zoo while there's neither wet nor mud,
'S the time to run an' warm your blood,
In winds a-cuttèn keen.
Vor young men's hearts an' maïden's eyes
Don't vreeze below the cwoldest skies,
While they in twice so keen a blast
Can wag their brisk lim's twice so vast!