steal vrom others' naisy din;
An' where the whirlen brook do roll
Below the walnut-tree, I'll stroll
An' think o' thee wi' all my soul,
Dear Jenny; while the sound o' bells
Do vlee along wi' mwoansome zwells,
Sweet music in the wind!

I'll think how in the rushy leaeze
O' zunny evenens jis' lik' theaese,
In happy times I us'd to zee
Thy comely sheaepe about the tree,
Wi' pail a-held avore thy knee;
An' lissen'd to thy merry zong
That at a distance come along,
Sweet music in the wind!

An' when wi' me you walk'd about
O' Zundays, after church wer out.
Wi' hangen eaerm an' modest look;
Or zitten in some woody nook
We lissen'd to the leaves that shook
Upon the poplars straight an' tall,
Or rottle o' the watervall,
Sweet music in the wind!

An' when the playvul air do vlee,
O' moonlight nights, vrom tree to tree,
Or whirl upon the sheaeken grass,
Or rottle at my window glass:
Do seem,--as I do hear it pass,--
As if thy vaice did come to tell
Me where thy happy soul do dwell,
Sweet music in the wind!

UNCLE AN' AUNT.

How happy uncle us'd to be
O' zummer time, when aunt an' he
O' Zunday evenens, eaerm in eaerm,
Did walk about their tiny farm,
While birds did zing an' gnats did zwarm,
Drough grass a'most above their knees,
An' roun' by hedges an' by trees
Wi' leafy boughs a-swayen.

His hat wer broad, his cwoat wer brown,
Wi' two long flaps a-hangen down;
An' vrom his knee went down a blue
Knit stocken to his buckled shoe;
An' aunt did pull her gown-tail drough
Her pocket-hole, to keep en neat,
As she mid walk, or teaeke a seat
By leafy boughs a-zwayen.

An' vu'st they'd goo to zee their lots
O' pot-eaerbs in the geaerden plots;
An' he, i'-may-be, by the hatch,
Would zee aunt's vowls upon a patch
O' zeeds, an' vow if he could catch
Em wi' his gun, they shoudden vlee
Noo mwore into their roosten tree,
Wi' leafy boughs a-swayen.

An' then vrom geaerden they did pass
Drough orcha'd out to zee the grass,
An' if the apple-blooth, so white,
Mid be at all a-touch'd wi' blight;
An' uncle, happy at the zight,
Did guess what cider there mid be
In all the orcha'd, tree wi' tree,
Wi' tutties all a-swayen.

An' then they stump'd along vrom there
A-vield, to zee the cows an' meaere;
An' she, when uncle come in zight,
Look'd up, an' prick'd her ear