a-stannen still,
Last Zunday, up on Ivy Hill,
To zee how strong the corn did look.
An' he stay'd back awhile an' spoke
A vew kind words to all the vo'k,
Vor good or joke, an' wi' a smile
Begun a-playen wi' a chile.

The zull, wi' iron zide awry,
Had long a-vurrow'd up the vield;
The heavy roller had a-wheel'd
It smooth vor showers vrom the sky;
The bird-bwoy's cry, a-risen sh'ill,
An' clacker, had a-left the hill,
All bright but still, vor time alwone
To speed the work that we'd a-done.

Down drough the wind, a-blowen keen,
Did gleaere the nearly cloudless sky,
An' corn in bleaede, up ancle-high,
'lthin the geaete did quiver green;
An' in the geaete a-lock'd there stood
A prickly row o' thornen wood
Vor vo'k vor food had done their best,
An' left to Spring to do the rest.

"The geaete," he cried, "a-seal'd wi' thorn
Vrom harmvul veet's a-left to hold
The bleaede a-springen vrom the mwold,
While God do ripen it to corn.
An' zoo in life let us vulvil
Whatever is our Meaeker's will,
An' then bide still, wi' peacevul breast,
While He do manage all the rest."

ANGELS BY THE DOOR.

Oh! there be angels evermwore,
A-passen onward by the door,
A-zent to teaeke our jays, or come
To bring us zome--O Meaerianne.
Though doors be shut, an' bars be stout,
Noo bolted door can keep em out;
But they wull leaeve us ev'ry thing
They have to bring--My Meaerianne.

An' zoo the days a-stealen by,
Wi' zuns a-riden drough the sky,
Do bring us things to leaeve us sad,
Or meaeke us glad--O Meaerianne.
The day that's mild, the day that's stern,
Do teaeke, in stillness, each his turn;
An' evils at their worst mid mend,
Or even end--My Meaerianne.

But still, if we can only bear
Wi' faith an' love, our pain an' ceaere,
We shan't vind missen jays a-lost,
Though we be crost--O Meaerianne.
But all a-took to heav'n, an' stow'd
Where we can't weaeste em on the road,
As we do wander to an' fro,
Down here below--My Meaerianne.

But there be jays I'd soonest choose
To keep, vrom them that I must lose;
Your workzome hands to help my tweil,
Your cheerful smile--O Meaerianne.
The Zunday bells o' yonder tow'r,
The moonlight sheaedes o' my own bow'r,
An' rest avore our vier-zide,
At evenen-tide--My Meaerianne.

VO'K A-COMEN INTO CHURCH.

The church do zeem a touchen zight,
When vo