Lik' daughters now a-comèn on,
To bloom when they be weak an' wan,
Went down the steps vor water.
An' what do yonder ringers tell
A-ringèn changes, bell by bell;
Or what's a-show'd by yonder zight
O' vo'k in white, upon the road,
But that by John o' Woodleys zide,
There's now a-blushèn vor his bride,
A pretty maïd that vu'st he spied,