In the zunsheen of our zummers
Wi the hay time now a-come,
How busy wer we out a-vield
Wi vew a-left at hwome,
When waggons rumbled out ov yard
Red wheeled, wi body blue,
And back behind em loudly slammd
The geate avallen to.
Drough daysheen ov how many years
The geate ha now a-swung
Behind the veet o vull-grown men
And vootsteps of the young.
Drough years o days it swung to us
Behind each little shoe,
As we tripped lightly on avore
The geate a-vallen to.
In evenen time o starry night
How mother zot at hwome,
And kept her bleazen vier bright
Till father should ha come,
An' how she quicken'd up and smiled
An' stirred her vier anew,
To hear the trampen ho'ses steps
An' geate a-vallen to.
Theres moon-sheen now in nights o fall
When leaves be brown vrom green,
When, to the slammen o' the geate,
Our Jennys ears be keen,
When the wold dog do wag his tail,
An' Jean could tell to who,
As he do come in drough the geate,
The geate a-vallen to.
An' oft do come a saddened hour
When there must goo away
One well-beloved to our hearts core,
Vor long, perhaps vor aye:
An' oh! it is a touchen thing
The loven heart must rue,
To hear behind his last farewell
The geate a-vallen to.