By weäles an' pooks o' June's new haÿ,
Wi' smilèn age, an laughèn youth,
Bezide the zummer hedge in blooth.
THE WATER CROWVOOT.
O' small-feäc'd flow'r that now dost bloom
To stud wi' white the shallow Frome,
An' leäve the clote to spread his flow'r
On darksome pools o' stwoneless Stour,
When sof'ly-rizèn aïrs do cool