Avore they met the younger zight
Ov Emily ov Yarrow Mill.
An' now my heart do leäp to think
O' times that I've a-spent in plaÿ,
Bezide thy river's rushy brink,
Upon a deäizybed o' Maÿ;
I lov'd the friends thy land ha' bore,
An' I do love the paths they wore,
An' I do love thee all the mwore,
Vor Emily ov Yarrow Mill.