Classic Poem

As the hill that is grass-green there-right
Vur away do look blue to the zight,
An' the tow'r, wi' a loud-ringen bell,
Vur asunder do gi'e us noo knell,
Zoo our time do misput to our mind
Other days vur ahead or behind.

When the young do zet out on the land
O' their life, there is hope at their hand,
Still a-pointen, wi' vinger out-shot,
Vrom their pleäce to a happier spot,
That as they do goo on, do glide back
Vrom the steps ov their low trodden track.

But at last, when their on-zight's a-vound
All a-shorten'd to narrower ground,
Do come mem'ry, a-turnen their head
To look back at the road they've a-sped,
All a-sheenen, so feäir to the view,
They would faïn meäke their outzet anew.

Zoo the days that in fancy do shed
Sweeter jaÿs than the days over head,
Wi' the kindliest vo'k ever found,
An' wi' kindliest words that do sound,
Be as hill-blue we still have to vind,
Or the land that's a-gone off behind.