In parish be so well to do;
Vor his own cows do swing their taïls
Behind his païls, below his boughs:
An' then ageän to win my love,
Why, she's as hwomely as a dove,
An' don't hold up herzelf above
Gwaïn down the steps vor water.
Gwaïn down the steps vor water! No!
How handsome it do meäke her grow.
If she'd be straïght, or walk abrode,