An' Poll's so happy out in groun',
Wi' her white païl below her eärm
As if she wore a goolden crown.
An' Poll don't zit up half the night,
Nor lie vor half the day a-bed;
An' zoo her eyes be sparklèn bright,
An' zoo her cheäks be bloomèn red.
In zummer mornèns, when the lark
Do rouse the litty lad an' lass
To work, then she's the vu'st to mark