Classic Poem

We've at theäse new house a door,
And do sleep within his lock,
An' do step about the vloor,
Where so leätely droop'd the dock;
It do sheen below the moon
By the leätely lwonesome woak,
Where do rise his peäle-blue smoke,
By the yolla zun o' noon.
An' his bricken walls be red,
An' his mortar streaks do sheen,
An' noo mesh is eet a-spread
O'er his zide in patchy green,
An' noo ivy have a-clung
To his wall, wi' leafy stem,
An' noo window wi' a hem
O' sweet rwoses is behung.

In the dell we can behold
By the meeten o' the streams,
Where the wold house wore so wold,
While the worm wer in his beams.
There be still his loft and croft,
But noo longer ruf nor wall,
Nor another stwone to vall,
Nor a plank o' steäir or loft.
We ha' brought up here zome trees
That the younger vo'k do prize,
We ha' brought the hives o' bees,
Vor to keep avore our eyes.
Zoo come, friends, when you do roam,
Come to zee us, come at whiles,
Wi' your looks, an' words, an' smiles,
We shall veel the mwore at hwome.