Vull many a tongue o' wold an' young.
There at the geäte that woonce wer blue
Hallow'd by times o' passèn drough,
Light strawmotes rose in flaggèn flight,
A-floated by the winds o' night,
Where leafy ivy-stems did crawl
In moonlight on the windblown wall,
An' merry maïdens' vaïces vled
In echoes sh'ill, vrom wall to shed,
As shiv'rèn in their frocks o' white