e zun;
The while his brother look'd below
Vor what the groun' mid have to show

Zoo woone did watch above his head
The bird his hands could never teaeke;
An' woone, below, where he did tread,
Vound out the nest within the breaeke;
But, aggs be only woonce a-vound,
An' uncaught larks ageaen mid sound.

THE TWO CHURCHES.

A happy day, a happy year.
A zummer Zunday, dazzlen clear,
I went athirt vrom Lea to Noke.
To goo to church wi' Fanny's vo'k:
The sky o' blue did only show
A cloud or two, so white as snow,
An' air did sway, wi' softest strokes,
The eltrot roun' the dark-bough'd woaks.
O day o' rest when bells do toll!
O day a-blest to ev'ry soul!
How sweet the zwells o' Zunday bells.

An' on the cowslip-knap at Creech,
Below the grove o' steaetely beech,
I heaerd two tow'rs a-cheemen clear,
Vrom woone I went, to woone drew near,
As they did call, by flow'ry ground,
The bright-shod veet vrom housen round,
A-drownen wi' their holy call,
The goocoo an' the water-vall.
Die off, O bells o' my dear pleaece,
Ring out, O bells avore my feaece,
Vull sweet your zwells, O ding-dong bells.

Ah! then vor things that time did bring
My kinsvo'k, _Lea_ had bells to ring;
An' then, ageaen, vor what bevell
My wife's, why _Noke_ church had a bell;
But soon wi' hopevul lives a-bound
In woone, we had woone tower's sound,
Vor our high jays all vive bells rung
Our losses had woone iron tongue.
Oh! ring all round, an' never mwoaen
So deep an' slow woone bell alwone,
Vor sweet your swells o' vive clear bells.

WOAK HILL.

When sycamore leaves wer a-spreaden,
Green-ruddy, in hedges,
Bezide the red doust o' the ridges,
A-dried at Woak Hill;

I packed up my goods all a-sheenen
Wi' long years o' handlen,
On dousty red wheels ov a waggon,
To ride at Woak Hill.

The brown thatchen ruf o' the dwellen,
I then wer a-leaeven,
Had shelter'd the sleek head o' Meaery,
My bride at Woak Hill.

But now vor zome years, her light voot-vall
'S a-lost vrom the vlooren.
Too soon vor my jay an' my childern,
She died at Woak Hill.

But still I do think that, in soul,
She do hover about us;
To ho vor her motherless childern,
Her pride at Woak Hill.

Zoo--lest she should tell me hereafter
I stole off