Classic Poem

Youth, health, glow'd in her cheäk
When she grew up vrom a chile,
Kind, meek, when she did speäk,
Sweet wer her looks in her smile.
Wi' jaÿè an' wi' hope her young heart did heave high:
Vew wer her tears,
Gaÿè wer her years,
Comely her gait vor to zee her goo by.

Months, years, passen apeäce,
Meäde her look thoughtvul an' peäle,
Thought, ceäre, lower'd her feäce,
Love had a-twold her his teäle
That called up the dreams ov a long wedded life.
She did look on,
Meek-soul'd an' wan,
To trials an' jaÿès ov a mother an' wife.

Hope, grief, alter'd her steäte,
When her vu'st beäbe wer a-born,
Well, ill, lost wer her meäte,
She wer in sorrow vorlorn,
In Iwonesomeness eäten her leäbor-won bread,
Ever beguil'd
By her sweet child,
But hopeless, vor loss ov her staÿè that wer dead.

Look, zee, there is her bier,
Under the dark-headed yew;
Eyes, cheäks, wet wi' the tear,
Hangen a-muffled vrom view;
Her child, a meek maid, is a-weepen behind.
Heavy do vall,
Trials on all
The jaÿè-seeken hearts ov poor stricken mankind.