Classic Poem

What changes, John, beyond our thought
Long years do meäke in ev'ry pleäce,
In neämes an' sheäpes, vrom feäce to feäce,
In souls a-took an' souls a-brought;
An' here, where ev'ry knoll do last
While men do come an' goo so vast,
The wind do softly seem to sigh,
Men's life do glide away as I.

The child that here mid be a-vound
A long way off mid live a man;
The mother here mid end her span
O' life, the maïd on other ground;
Wi' young vo'k still a-teäkèn on
The pleäces o' the wold a-gone,
The winds do softly seem to sigh,
Men's life do glide away as I.

The merry bells a-ringen vast
Do tell the moments out, an' clock,
A-sounden slowly, knock by knock,
Do reckon off the hour a-past;
In Zunday cheems a week's a-run,
In peals at feäst, a year's a-done,
An' wind in knells do seem to cry,
Men's life do glide away as I.