An' on the dousty cart-house beam
Do hang the cobweb's white-lin'd net.
While storms do roar,
An' win' do zweep,
By hangen steep,
Or hollow deep,
At Lindenore.

An' when a good day's work's a-done
An' I do rest, the while a squall
Do rumble in the hollow tun,
An' ivy-stems do whip the wall.
Then in the house do sound about
My ears, dear vaices vull or thin,
A prayen vor the souls vur out
At sea, an' cry wi' bibb'ren chin--
Oh! shut the door.
What soul can sleep,
Upon the deep,
When storms do zweep
At Lindenore.

GRIEF AN' GLADNESS.

"Can all be still, when win's do blow?
Look down the grove an' zee
The boughs a-swingen on the tree,
An' beaeten weaeves below.
Zee how the tweilen vo'k do bend
Upon their windward track,
Wi' ev'ry string, an' garment's end,
A-flutt'ren at their back."
I cried, wi' sorrow sore a-tried,
An' hung, wi' Jenny at my zide,
My head upon my breast.
Wi' strokes o' grief so hard to bear,
'Tis hard vor souls to rest.

Can all be dull, when zuns do glow?
Oh! no; look down the grove,
Where zides o' trees be bright above;
An' weaeves do sheen below;
An' neaeked stems o' wood in hedge
Do gleaem in streaeks o' light,
An' rocks do gleaere upon the ledge
O' yonder zunny height,
"No, Jeaene, wi' trials now withdrawn,
Lik' darkness at a happy dawn."
I cried, "Noo mwore despair;
Wi' our lost peace ageaen a-vound,
'Tis wrong to harbour ceaere."

SLIDEN.

When wind wer keen,
Where ivy-green
Did clwosely wind
Roun' woak-tree rind,
An' ice shone bright,
An' meaeds wer white, wi' thin-spread snow
Then on the pond, a-spreaden wide,
We bwoys did zweep along the slide,
A-striken on in merry row.

There ruddy-feaeced,
In busy heaeste,
We all did wag
A spanken lag,
To win good speed,
When we, straight-knee'd, wi' foreright tooes,
Should shoot along the slipp'ry track,
Wi' grinden sound, a-getten slack,
The slower went our clumpen shoes.

Vor zome slow chap,
Did teaeke mishap,
As he did veel
His hinder heel
A-het a thump,
Wi' zome big lump, o' voot an' shoe.
Down vell th