To tread her road wi' comely gaït,
She coulden do a better thing
To zet herzelf upright, than bring
Her pitcher on her head, vrom spring
Upon the steps, wi' water.
No! don't ye neäme in woone seäme breath
Wi' bachelors, the husband's he'th;
The happy pleäce, where vingers thin
Do pull woone's chin, or pat woone's feäce.
But still the bleäme is their's, to slight