Vor mine, when I'm a-gone
Vrom thik wold brown
Thatch ruf, a-boun'
By elem trees a-growèn roun'.
Ov eight good hwomes, where, I can mind
Vo'k liv'd upon their land, John,
But dree be now a-left behind;
The rest ha' vell in hand, John,
An' all the happy souls they ved
Be scatter'd vur an' wide.