Classic Poem

Ah! look an' zee how widely free
To all the land the win' do goo;
If here a tree do swaÿ, a tree
On yon'er hill's a-swaÿen too.
How wide the light do bring to zight
The pleäce an' liven feäce o' man;
How vur the stream do run vor lip
To drink, or hand to sink and dip!

But oone mid be a-smote wi' woe
That midden pass, in wider flight,
To other souls, a-droopen low,
An' hush'd like birds at vall o' night.
But zome be sad wi' others glad;
In turn we all mid murn our lot,
An' many a day that have a-broke
Oone heart is jaÿ to other vo'k.

The mornen zun do cast abroad
His light on drops o' dewy wet,
An' down below his noontide road
The streams do gleäre below his het;
His evenen light do sparkle bright
Across the quiv'ren gossamer;
But I, though fair he still mid glow,
Do miss a zight he cannot show.