From mornèn's dawn till evenèn's dew.
When trees be brown an' meäds be green,
An' skies be blue, an' streams do sheen,
An' thin-edg'd clouds be snowy white
Above the bluest hills in zight;
But I can let the daylight goo,
When I've a-met wi'—I know who.
In Spring I met her by a bed
O' laurels higher than her head;
The while a rwose hung white between