On western clouds a vi'ry red;
The elems' leafy limbs wer still
Above the gravel-bedded rill,
An' under en did warble sh'ill,
Avore the dusk, the blackbird.
An' there, in sheädes o' darksome yews,
Did vlee the maïdens on their tooes,
A-laughèn sh'ill wi' merry feäce
When we did vind their hidèn pleäce.
'Ithin the loose-bough'd ivys gloom,