An' I can mind the wind wer rough,
An' gather'd clouds, but brought noo storms,
An' you did nessle warm enough,
'Ithin your smilèn mother's eärms.
The whindlèn grass did quiver light,
Among the stubble, feäded white,
An' if at times the zunlight broke
Upon the ground, or on the vo'k,
'Twer slantèn light o' Fall.
An' when we brought ye drough the door