The mother that in faïth could zee The Seävior on the high cross tree Mid be a-vound a-grievèn sore, But not to grieve vor evermwore, Vor He shall show her faïthvul mind, His chaïce is all that she should choose, An' love that here do grieve to lose, Shall be, above, a jaÿ to vind, Wi' Him that evermwore shall keep The souls that He do lay asleep.
The stream-be-wander'd dell did spread Vrom height to woody height, An' meäds did lie, a grassy bed, Vor elem-sheädèn light. The milkmaïd by her white-horn'd cow, Wi' païl so white as snow, Did zing below the elem bough A-swaÿèn to an' fro.
An' there the evenèn's low-shot light Did smite the high tree-tops, An' rabbits vrom the grass, in fright, Did leäp 'ithin the copse. An' there the shepherd wi' his crook. An' dog bezide his knee, Went whisslèn by, in aïr that shook The ivy on the tree.
An' on the hill, ahead, wer bars A-showèn dark on high, Avore, as eet, the evenèn stars Did twinkle in the sky, An' then the last sweet evenèn-tide That my long sheäde vell there, I went down Brindon's thymy zide, To my last sleep at Ware.
The Frome, wi' ever-water'd brink, Do run where shelvèn hills do zink Wi' housen all a-cluster'd roun' The parish tow'rs below the down. An' now, vor woonce, at leäst, ov all The pleäcen where the stream do vall, There's woone that zome to-day mid vind, Wi' things a-suited to their mind. An' that's out where the Fancy Feäir Is on at Maïden Newton.
An' vo'k, a-smarten'd up, wull hop Out here, as ev'ry traïn do stop, Vrom up the line, a longish ride, An' down along the river-zide. An' zome do beät, wi' heels an' tooes, The leänes an' paths, in nimble shoes, An' bring, bezides, a biggish knot, Ov all their childern that can trot, A-vlockèn where the Fancy Feäir Is here at Maïden Newton.
If you should goo, to-day, avore A _Chilfrome_ house or _Downfrome_ door, Or _Frampton's_ park-zide row, or look Drough quiet _Wraxall's_ slopy nook, Or elbow-streeted _Catt'stock_, down By _Castlehill's_ cwold-winded crown, An' zee if vo'k be all at hwome, You'd vind em out--they be a-come Out hither, where the Fancy Feäir Is on at Maïden Newton.
Come, young men, come, an' here you'll vind A gift to please a maïden's mind; Come, husbands, here be gifts to please Your wives, an' meäke em smile vor days; Come, so's, an' buy at Fancy Feäir A keepseäke vor your friends elsewhere; You can't but stop an' spend a cwein Wi' leädies that ha' goods so fine; An' all to meake, vor childern's seäke, The School at Maïden Newton.