a rock did sound,
Though out o' zight wer foam an' stwone to me.

Behind the knap, above the gloomy copse,
The wind did russle in the trees' high tops,
Though evenen darkness, an' the risen hill,
Kept all the quiv'ren leaves unshown to me,

Within the copse, below the zunless sky,
I heaerd a nightengeaele, a-warblen high
Her lwoansome zong, a-hidden vrom my zight,
An' showen nothen but her mwoan to me.

An' by a house, where rwoses hung avore
The thatch-brow'd window, an' the oben door,
I heaerd the merry words, an' hearty laugh
O' zome feaeir maid, as eet unknown to me.

High over head the white-rimm'd clouds went on,
Wi' woone a-comen up, vor woone a-gone;
An' feaeir they floated in their sky-back'd flight,
But still they never meaede a sound to me.

An' there the miller, down the stream did float
Wi' all his childern, in his white-sail'd bwoat,
Vur off, beyond the stragglen cows in meaed,
But zent noo vaice, athirt the ground, to me.

An' then a buttervlee, in zultry light,
A-wheelen on about me, vier-bright,
Did show the gayest colors to my eye,
But still did bring noo vaice around to me.

I met the merry laugher on the down,
Bezide her mother, on the path to town,
An' oh! her sheaepe wer comely to the zight,
But wordless then wer she a-vound to me.

Zoo, sweet ov unzeen things mid be sound,
An' feaeir to zight mid soundless things be vound,
But I've the laugh to hear, an' feaece to zee,
Vor they be now my own, a-bound to me.

TWO AN' TWO.

The zun, O Jessie, while his feaece do rise
In vi'ry skies, a-shedden out his light
On yollow corn a-weaeven down below
His yollow glow, is gay avore the zight.
By two an' two,
How goodly things do goo,
A-matchen woone another to fulvill
The goodness ov their Meaeker's will.

How bright the spreaden water in the lew
Do catch the blue, a-sheenen vrom the sky;
How true the grass do teaeke the dewy bead
That it do need, while dousty roads be dry.
By peaeir an' peaeir
Each thing's a-meaede to sheaere
The good another can bestow,
In wisdom's work down here below.

The lowest lim's o' trees do seldom grow
A-spread too low to gi'e the cows a sheaede;
The air's to bear the bird, the bird's to rise;
Vor light the eyes, vor eyes the light's a-meaede.
'Tis gi'e an' teaeke,
An' woone vor others' seaek