pples, befoam'd white as snow:
As the gilcups did quiver among
The white deaeisies, a-spread in a sheet.
There a quick-trippen maid come along,--
Aye, a girl wi' her light-steppen veet.

An' she cried "I do pray, is the road
Out to Lincham on here, by the meaed?"
An' "oh! ees," I meaede answer, an' show'd
Her the way it would turn an' would leaed:
"Goo along by the beech in the nook,
Where the childern do play in the cool,
To the steppen stwones over the brook,--
Aye, the grey blocks o' rock at the pool."

"Then you don't seem a-born an' a-bred,"
I spoke up, "at a place here about;"
An' she answer'd wi' cheaeks up so red
As a pi'ny but leaete a-come out,
"No, I liv'd wi' my uncle that died
Back in Eaepril, an' now I'm a-come
Here to Ham, to my mother, to bide,--
Aye, to her house to vind a new hwome."

I'm asheaemed that I wanted to know
Any mwore of her childhood or life,
But then, why should so feaeir a child grow
Where noo father did bide wi' his wife;
Then wi' blushes of zunrisen morn,
She replied "that it midden be known,
"Oh! they zent me away to be born,--[C]
Aye, they hid me when zome would be shown."

Oh! it meaede me a'most teary-ey'd,
An' I vound I a'most could ha' groan'd--
What! so winnen, an' still cast a-zide--
What! so lovely, an' not to be own'd;
Oh! a God-gift a-treated wi' scorn,
Oh! a child that a squier should own;
An' to zend her away to be born!--
Aye, to hide her where others be shown!

[Footnote C: Words once spoken to the writer.]

HAWTHORN DOWN.

All up the down's cool brow
I work'd in noontide's gleaere,
On where the slow-wheel'd plow
'D a-wore the grass half bare.
An' gil'cups quiver'd quick,
As air did pass,
An' deaeisies huddled thick
Among the grass.

The while my eaerms did swing
Wi' work I had on hand,
The quick-wing'd lark did zing
Above the green-tree'd land,
An' bwoys below me chafed
The dog vor fun,
An' he, vor all they laef'd,
Did meaeke em run.

The south zide o' the hill,
My own tun-smoke rose blue,--
In North Coomb, near the mill,
My mother's wer in view--
Where woonce her vier vor all
Ov us did burn,
As I have childern small
Round mine in turn.

An' zoo I still wull cheer
Her life wi' my small store,
As she do drop a tear
Bezide her lwonesome