UPON the slope, the hedge did bound

The vield wi’ blossom-whited zide,

An’ charlock patches, yollow-dyed,

Did reach along the white-soil'd ground;

An’ vo'k, a-comèn up vrom meäd, folk

Brought gil'cup meal upon the shoe; buttercup

Or went on where the road did leäd,

Wi’ smeechy doust from heel to tooe, thick dust

As noon did smite, wi’ burnèn light,

The road so white, to Meldonley.

An’ I did tramp the zun-dried ground,

By hedge-climb'd hills, a-spread wi’ flow'rs,

An’ watershootèn dells, an’ tow'rs,

By elem-trees a-hemm'd all round,

To zee a vew wold friends, about old

Wold Meldon, where I still ha’ zome,

That bid me speed as I come out, wished me success

An’ now ha’ bid me welcome hwome,

As I did goo, while skies wer blue,

Vrom view to view, to Meldonley.

An’ there wer timber'd knaps, that show'd hillocks

Cool sheädes, vor rest, on grassy ground,

An’ thatch-brow'd windows, flower-bound,

Where I could wish wer my abode.

I pass'd the maïd avore the spring,

An’ shepherd by the thornèn tree;

An’ heärd the merry dréver zing,

But met noo kith or kin to me,

Till I come down, vrom Meldon's crown

To rufs o’ brown, at Meldonley.