THERE Liddy zot bezide her cow, sat

Upon her lowly seat, O;

A hood did overhang her brow,

Her païl wer at her veet, O;

An’ she wer kind, an’ she wer feäir,

An’ she wer young, an’ free o’ ceäre;

Vew winters had a-blow'd her heäir, few

Bezide the Winter's Willow.

She idden woone a-rear'd in town, isn't one

Where many a gaÿer lass, O,

Do trip a-smilèn up an’ down,

So peäle wi’ smoke an’ gas, O;

But here, in vields o’ greäzèn herds,

Her väice ha’ mingled sweetest words

Wi’ evenèn cheärms o’ busy birds, noises

Bezide the Winter's Willow.

An’ when, at last, wi’ beätèn breast,

I knock'd avore her door, O,

She ax'd me in to teäke the best asked

O’ pleäces on the vloor, O;

An’ smilèn feäir avore my zight,

She blush'd bezide the yollow light

O’ bleäzèn brands, while winds o’ night

Do sheäke the Winter's Willow.

An’ if there's readship in her smile, trustworthiness

She don't begrudge to speäre, O,

To zomebody, a little while,

The empty woaken chair, O; oak

An’ if I've luck upon my zide,

Why, I do think she'll be my bride

Avore the leaves ha’ twice a-died

Upon the Winter's Willow.

Above the coach-wheels’ rollèn rims

She never rose to ride, O,

Though she do zet her comely lim's

Above the mare's white zide, O;

But don't become too proud to stoop

An’ scrub her milkèn païl's white hoop,

Or zit a-milkèn where do droop

The wet-stemm'd Winter's Willow. -trunked

An’ I've a cow or two in leäze, meadow

Along the river-zide, O,

An’ païls to zet avore her knees,

At dawn an’ evenèn-tide, O;

An’ there she still mid zit, an’ look may

Athirt upon the woody nook across

Where vu'st I zeed her by the brook first, saw

Bezide the Winter's Willow.

Zoo, who would heed the treeless down, so

A-beät by all the storms, O,

Or who would heed the busy town,

Where vo'k do goo in zwarms, O; folk

If he wer in my house below

The elems, where the vier did glow fire

In Liddy's feäce, though winds did blow

Ageän the Winter's Willow.