Early Risèn
The
aïr
to
gi'e
your
cheäks
a
hue
O'
rwosy
red,
so
feaïr
to
view,
Is
what
do
sheäke
the
grass-bleädes
gray
At
breäk
o'
day,
in
mornèn
dew;
Vor
vo'k
that
will
be
rathe
abrode,
Will
meet
wi'
health
upon
their
road.
But
bidèn
up
till
dead
o'
night,
When
han's
o'
clocks
do
stan'
upright,
By
candle-light,
do
soon
consume
The
feäce's
bloom,
an'
turn
it
white.
An'
light
a-cast
vrom
midnight
skies
Do
blunt
the
sparklèn
ov
the
eyes.
Vor
health
do
weäke
vrom
nightly
dreams
Below
the
mornèn's
eärly
beams,
An'
leäve
the
dead-aïr'd
houses'
eaves,
Vor
quiv'rèn
leaves,
an'
bubblèn
streams,
A-glitt'rèn
brightly
to
the
view,
Below
a
sky
o'
cloudless
blue.
