river, bend by bend,
Do draein our meaed, an' mark its end,
The hangen leaeze do teaeke our cows,
An' trees do sheaede em wi' their boughs,
An' I the quicker beaet the road,
To zee a-comen into view,
Still greener vrom the sky-line's blue,
Wold Burnley our abode.

GRAMMER A-CRIPPLED.

"The zunny copse ha' birds to zing,
The leaeze ha' cows to low,
The elem trees ha' rooks on wing,
The meaeds a brook to flow,
But I can walk noo mwore, to pass
The drashel out abrode,
To wear a path in theaese year's grass
Or tread the wheelworn road,"
Cried Grammer, "then adieu,
O runnen brooks,
An' vleen rooks,
I can't come out to you.
If 'tis God's will, why then 'tis well,
That I should bide 'ithin a wall."

An' then the childern, wild wi' fun,
An' loud wi' jayvul sounds,
Sprung in an' cried, "We had a run,
A-playen heaere an' hounds;
But oh! the cowslips where we stopt
In Maycreech, on the knap!"
An' vrom their little han's each dropt
Some cowslips in her lap.
Cried Grammer, "Only zee!
I can't teaeke strolls,
An' little souls
Would bring the vields to me.
Since 'tis God's will, an' mus' be well
That I should bide 'ithin a wall."

"Oh! there be prison walls to hold
The han's o' lawless crimes,
An' there be walls arear'd vor wold
An' zick in tryen times;
But oh! though low mid slant my ruf,
Though hard my lot mid be,
Though dry mid come my daily lwoaf,
Mid mercy leaeve me free!"
Cried Grammer, "Or adieu
To jay; O grounds,
An' bird's gay sounds
If I mus' gi'e up you,
Although 'tis well, in God's good will,
That I should bide 'ithin a wall."

"Oh! then," we answer'd, "never fret,
If we shall be a-blest,
We'll work vull hard drough het an' wet
To keep your heart at rest:
To woaken chair's vor you to vill,
For you shall glow the coal,
An' when the win' do whissle sh'ill
We'll screen it vrom your poll."
Cried Grammer, "God is true.
I can't but feel
He smote to heal
My wounded heart in you;
An' zoo 'tis well, if 'tis His will,
That I be here 'ithin a wall."

THE CASTLE RUINS.

A happy day at Whitsuntide,
As soon's the zun begun to vall,
We all stroll'd up the steep hill-zide
To Meldon, girt an' small;
Out where the castle wall stood high
A-mwoldren to the zunny sky.

An' there