Classic Poem

O V all the meäds wi' shoals an' pools,
Where streams did sheäke the limber zedge,
An' milken vo'k did teäke their stools,
In evenen zun-light under hedge:
Ov all the wears the brook did vill,
Or all the hatches where a sheet
O' foam did leäp below woone's veet,
The pleäce vor me wer Leeburn Mill.

An' while below the mossy wheel
All day the foamen stream did roar,
An' up in mill the floaten meal
Did pitch upon the sheäken vloor.
We then could vind but vew han's still,
Or veet a-resten off the ground,
An' seldom hear the merry sound
O' geämes a-plaÿè'd at Leeburn Mill

But when they let the stream goo free,
Bezide the drippen wheel at rest,
An' leaves upon the poplar-tree
Wer dark avore the glowen west;
An' when the clock, a-ringen sh'ill,
Did slowly beät zome evenen hour,
Oh! then 'ithin the leafy bow'r
Our tongues did run at Leeburn Mill.

An' when November's win' did blow,
Wi' hufflen storms along the plain,
An' blacken'd leaves did lie below
The neäked tree, a-zoak'd wi' rain,
I werden at a loss to vill
The darkest hour o' rainy skies,
If I did vind avore my eyes
The feäces down at Leeburn Mill.