An' parrock, I'll vulvil my vow,
An' she shall come an' milk her.
[page 148]
THE SHEP'ERD BWOY.
When the warm zummer breeze do blow over the hill,
An' the vlock's a-spread over the ground;
When the vaïce o' the busy wold sheep dog is still,
An' the sheep-bells do tinkle all round;
Where noo tree vor a sheäde but the thorn is a-vound,