Be'mi'ster
Sweet
Be'mi'ster,
that
bist
a-bound
By
green
an'
woody
hills
all
round,
Wi'
hedges,
reachèn
up
between
A
thousan'
vields
o'
zummer
green,
Where
elems'
lofty
heads
do
drow
Their
sheädes
vor
haÿ-meakers
below,
An'
wild
hedge-flow'rs
do
charm
the
souls
O'
maïdens
in
their
evenèn
strolls.
When
I
o'
Zunday
nights
wi'
Jeäne
Do
saunter
drough
a
vield
or
leäne,
Where
elder-blossoms
be
a-spread
Above
the
eltrot's
milk-white
head,
An'
flow'rs
o'
blackberries
do
blow
Upon
the
brembles,
white
as
snow,
To
be
outdone
avore
my
zight
By
Jeän's
gaÿ
frock
o'
dazzlèn
white;
Oh!
then
there's
nothèn
that's
'ithout
Thy
hills
that
I
do
ho
about,--
Noo
bigger
pleäce,
noo
gaÿer
town,
Beyond
thy
sweet
bells'
dyèn
soun',
As
they
do
ring,
or
strike
the
hour,
At
evenèn
vrom
thy
wold
red
tow'r.
No:
shelter
still
my
head,
an'
keep
My
bwones
when
I
do
vall
asleep.
