Did stan' to years o' wind an' zun;
An' where the zwellèn pillars bore
A pworch above the heavy door,
Wi' sister sheädes a-reachèn cool
Athirt the stwones an' sparklèn pool.
I spoke zome word that meäde en smile,
O' girt vo'k's wealth an' poor vo'k's tweil,
As if I pin'd, vor want ov greäce,
To have a lord's or squier's pleäce.
"No, no," he zaid, "what God do zend