Classic Poem

As up on trees' high limbs
The western zun did glow,
An' down by river brims
The win'-drove weäves did flow,
There we did seek the tun
Where evenen smoke wer grey,
While dells begun to miss the light o' day.

The mother-holden child,
Bezide the hatch, did spring,
An' crow, a-reäven wild
At zight o' birds on wing;
An' hwome-bound chaps did shout,
A-meäken geäme avore
The maïdens out a-stannen at the door.

Then we'd a door where all
Did gather to their rest,
When peäle-beam'd stars did vall
Above the red-sky'd west,
But now vrom thik wold door
We've all a-took our flight,
An' zome noo mwore do know the day vrom night.