'TIS true I brought noo fortune hwome

Wi’ Jenny, vor her honey-moon,

But still a goodish hansel come wedding present

Behind her perty soon,

Vor stick, an’ dish, an’ spoon, all vell

To Jeäne, vrom Aunt o’ Camwy dell.

Zoo all the lot o’ stuff a-tied so

Upon the plow, a tidy tod, wagon, load

On gravel-crunchèn wheels did ride,

Wi’ ho'ses, iron-shod,

That, as their heads did nod, my whip

Did guide along wi’ lightsome flip.

An’ there it rod 'ithin the rwope, rode

Astraïn'd athirt, an’ straïn'd along, across

Down Thornhay's evenèn-lighted slope

An’ up the beech-tree drong; lane

Where wheels a-bound so strong, cut out

On either zide a deep-zunk rout. rut

An’ when at Fall the trees wer brown,

Above the bennet-bearèn land, grass-stalk

When beech-leaves slowly whiver'd down, fluttered

By evenèn winds a-fann'd;

The routs wer each a band o’ red,

A-vill'd by drifted beech-leaves dead.

An’ when, in Winter's leafless light,

The keener eastern wind did blow,

An’ scatter down, avore my zight,

A chilly cwoat o’ snow;

The routs ageän did show vull bright,

In two long streaks o’ glitt'rèn white.

But when, upon our weddèn night,

The cart's light wheels, a-rollèn round,

Brought Jenny hwome, they run too light

To mark the yieldèn ground;

Or welcome would be vound a peäir

O’ green-vill'd routs a-runnèn there.

Zoo let me never bring 'ithin so

My dwellèn what's a-won by wrong,

An’ can't come in 'ithout a sin;

Vor only zee how long

The waggon marks in drong, did show lane

Wi’ leaves, wi’ grass, wi’ groun’ wi’ snow.