hill;
A-glitteren on window glass,
O then, while zummer win's do pass
The rippled brook, an' swayen grass,
Sweet's a walk,
Where we do talk, wi' feaeces bright,
In whispers in the peacevul night.

When the swayen men do mow
Flow'ry grass, wi' zweepen blow,
In het a-most enough to dry
The flat-spread clote-leaf that do lie
Upon the stream a-stealen by,
Sweet's their rest,
Upon the breast o' knap or mound
Out where the goocoo's vaice do sound.

Where the sleek-heaeir'd maid do zit
Out o' door to zew or knit,
Below the elem where the spring
'S a-runnen, an' the road do bring
The people by to hear her zing,
On the green,
Where she's a-zeen, an' she can zee,
O gay is she below the tree.

Come, O zummer wind, an' bring
Sounds o' birds as they do zing,
An' bring the smell o' bloomen may,
An' bring the smell o' new-mow'd hay;
Come fan my feaece as I do stray,
Fan the heaeir
O' Jessie feaeir; fan her cool,
By the weaeves o' stream or pool.

THE NEAeME LETTERS.

When high-flown larks wer on the wing,
A warm-air'd holiday in Spring,
We stroll'd, 'ithout a ceaere or frown,
Up roun' the down at Meldonley;
An' where the hawthorn-tree did stand
Alwone, but still wi' mwore at hand,
We zot wi' sheaedes o' clouds on high
A-flitten by, at Meldonley.

An' there, the while the tree did sheaede
Their gigglen heads, my knife's keen bleaede
Carved out, in turf avore my knee,
J. L., *T. D., at Meldonley.
'Twer Jessie Lee J. L. did meaen,
T. D. did stan' vor Thomas Deaene;
The "L" I scratch'd but slight, vor he
Mid soon be D, at Meldonley.

An' when the vields o' wheat did spread
Vrom hedge to hedge in sheets o' red.
An' bennets wer a-sheaeken brown.
Upon the down at Meldonley,
We stroll'd ageaen along the hill,
An' at the hawthorn-tree stood still,
To zee J. L. vor Jessie Lee,
An' my T. D., at Meldonley.

The grey-poll'd bennet-stems did hem
Each half-hid letter's zunken rim,
By leaedy's-vingers that did spread
In yollow red, at Meldonley.
An' heaerebells there wi' light blue bell
Shook soundless on the letter L,
To ment the bells when L vor Lee
Become a D at Meldonley.

Vor Jessie, now my wife, do strive
Wi' me in life, an' we do thrive;
Two sleek-heaeired meaeres do sprackly pull
My waggon vull, at Meldonley;
An' small-hoo