IN stillness we ha’ words to hear,

An’ sheäpes to zee in darkest night,

An’ tongues a-lost can haïl us near,

An’ souls a-gone can smile in zight;

When Fancy now do wander back

To years a-spent, an’ bring to mind

Zome happy tide a-left behind

In weästèn life's slow-beätèn track. wasting

When feädèn leaves do drip wi’ raïn, fading

Our thoughts can ramble in the dry;

When Winter win’ do zweep the plaïn

We still can have a zunny sky.

Vor though our limbs be winter-wrung,

We still can zee, wi’ Fancy's eyes,

The brightest looks ov e'th an’ skies, earth

That we did know when we wer young.

In païn our thoughts can pass to eäse,

In work our souls can be at plaÿ,

An’ leäve behind the chilly leäse meadow

Vor warm-aïr'd meäds o’ new mow'd haÿ,

When we do vlee in Fancy's flight fly

Vrom daily ills avore our feäce,

An’ linger in zome happy pleäce

Ov me'th an’ smiles, an’ warmth an’ light.