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a'ter agean alwone athirt auver avore awver bezide bide birds Blackmwore bleades boughs brook burnen bwoy ceare childern chile cwold darksome Do'set door drong droo drow earms ev'ry evenen faether feace feair flow'ry gearden geate gi'e gleare grass hand happy he'th head heair hoss hwome idden ithin ithout John laef laest leanen leave Leeburn lewth light lwoad Lydlinch maid maidens me'th meade meake meare merry mornen mossy mwore neame night oonce oone oone's paeth pleace rest road roun round sheades sheake sheenen smile souls sound stan stwone teake thease ther There's thik tow'r trees twer twile vaice vall veet vields vier-zide vind vingers vloor vound vrom vu'st wall wheels wind windor woak wold vo'k woont wull yollor zetten zide zight zing zome zong zummer zunny
Page 3 - An' painted birds do hush ther zingen Up upon the timber's tops ; An" brown-leav'd fruit's a-turnen red, In cloudless zunsheen, auver head, AVT fruit vor me, the apple tree Do lean down low in Linden Lea. Let other vo'k meake money vaster In the air o...
Page 2 - Then let en look en out a wife In Blackmwore by the Stour, As I upon my road did pass A school-house back in May, There out upon the beaten grass Wer maidens at their play ; An' as the pretty souls did tweil An' smile, I cried, " The flow'r O' beauty, then, is still in bud In Blackmwore by the Stour.
Page 154 - I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I do grieve at hwome. Since now bezide my dinner-bwoard Your vaice do never sound, I'll eat the bit I can avword, A-vield upon the ground ; Below the darksome bough, my love, Where you did never dine, An' I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I at hwome do pine.
Page 1 - An' blow, but where the tow'r Do rise among the bricken tuns, In Blackmwore by the Stour. If you could zee their comely gait, An' pretty feaces' smiles, A-trippen on so light o' waight, An' steppen off the stiles ; A-gwain to church, as bells do swing An'- ring within the tow'r, You'd own the pretty maidens' pleace Is Blackmwore by the Stour.
Page 104 - When skies wer' peale wi' twinklen stars, An' whislen air a-risen keen ; An' birds did leave the icy bars To vind, in woods, their mossy screen ; When vrozen grass, as white's a sheet, Did scrunchy sharp below our veet, An' water, that did sparkle red At zunzet, wer' a-vrozen dead ; The ringers then did spend an hour A-ringen changes up in tow'r ; Vor Lydlinch bells be good vor sound, An' liked by all the naighbours round.
Page 153 - Below the beeches' bough, my love, Where you did never come, An' I don't look to meet ye now, As I do look at hwome. Since you noo mwore be at my zide, In walks in zummer het, I'll goo alwone where mist do ride, Drough trees a-drippen wet : Below the rain-wet bough, my love, Where you did never come, An' I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I do grieve at hwome.
Page 1 - BLACKMWORE MAIDENS The primrwose in the sheade do blow, The cowslip in the zun, The thyme upon the down do grow, The clote where streams do run; An' where do pretty maidens grow An' blow, but where the tow'r Do rise among the bricken tuns, In Blackmwore by the Stour? If you could zee their comely gait, An' pretty fea'ces' smiles, A-trippen on so light o...
Page 112 - Vor to pull wi' the geeses' red bills, That did hiss at the vo'k that did pass, Or the bwoys that pick'd up their white quills. But shortly, if vower or vive Ov our goslens do creep vrom the agg, They must mwope in the gearden, mwore dead than alive, In a coop, or a-tied by the lag. Vor to catch at land, Thomas, an' snatch at land, Now is the plan; Meake money wherever you can. The childern wull soon have noo pleace Vor to play in, an' if they do grow, They wull have a thin musheroom feace, Wi' their...
Page 113 - We can gi'e up whole eacres o' ground, But the greens be a-grudg'd, vor to rear Our young children up healthy an' sound, Why, there woont be a-left the next age A green spot where their veet can goo free ; An' the goocoo wull soon be committed to cage Vor a trespass in zomebody's tree. Vor 'tis locken up, Thomas, an' blocken up, Stranger or brother, Men mussen come nigh woone another.
Page 154 - Below the darksome bough, my love, Where you did never dine, An' I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I at hwome do pine. Since I do miss your vaice an' feace In prayer at eventide, I'll pray wi' woone sad vaice vor greace To goo where you do bide ; Above the tree an' bough, my love, Where you be gone avore, An' be a-wai'ten vor me now, To come vor evermwore.