Their hollow nestes' rounded rim;
The while the zun, a-zinken low,
Did roll along his evenen bow,
I come along where wide-horn'd cows,
'Ithin a nook, a-screen'd by boughs,
Did stan' an' flip the white-hoop'd pails
Wi' heaeiry tufts o' swingen tails;
An' there wer Jenny Coom a-gone
Along the path a vew steps on.
A-beaeren on her head, upstraight,
Her pail, wi' slowly-riden waight,
An' hoops a-sheenen, lily-white,
Ageaen the evenen's slanten light;
An' zo I took her pail, an' left
Her neck a-freed vrom all his heft;
An' she a-looken up an' down,
Wi' sheaepely head an' glossy crown,
Then took my zide, an' kept my peaece
A-talken on wi' smilen feaece,
An' zetten things in sich a light,
I'd fain ha' heaer'd her talk all night;
An' when I brought her milk avore
The geaete, she took it in to door,
An' if her pail had but allow'd
Her head to vall, she would ha' bow'd,
An' still, as 'twer, I had the zight
Ov her sweet smile droughout the night.

WHEN BIRDS BE STILL.

Vor all the zun do leaeve the sky,
An' all the sounds o' day do die,
An' noo mwore veet do walk the dim
Vield-path to clim' the stiel's bars,
Yeet out below the rizen stars,
The dark'nen day mid leaeve behind
Woone tongue that I shall always vind,
A-whisperen kind, when birds be still.

Zoo let the day come on to spread
His kindly light above my head,
Wi' zights to zee, an' sounds to hear,
That still do cheer my thoughtvul mind;
Or let en goo, an' leaeve behind
An' hour to stroll along the gleaedes,
Where night do drown the beeches' sheaedes,
On grasses' bleaedes, when birds be still.

Vor when the night do lull the sound
O' cows a-bleaeren out in ground,
The sh'ill-vaic'd dog do stan' an' bark
'Ithin the dark, bezide the road;
An' when noo cracklen waggon's lwoad
Is in the leaene, the wind do bring
The merry peals that bells do ring
O ding-dong-ding, when birds be still.

Zoo teaeke, vor me, the town a-drown'd,
'Ithin a storm o' rumblen sound,
An' gi'e me vaices that do speak
So soft an' meek, to souls alwone;
The brook a-gurglen round a stwone,
An' birds o' day a-zingen clear,
An' leaves, that I mid zit an' hear
A-rustlen near, when birds be still.

RIDEN HWOME AT NIGHT.

Oh! no, I quite injay'd the ride
Behind wold Dobbin's heavy heels,
Wi' Jeaene a-prattlen at my zide,
Above our peaei