As light do gleäre in ev'ry ground,
Wi' boughy hedges out a-round
A-climmèn up the slopèn brows
O' hills, in rows o' sheädy boughs:
The while the hawthorn buds do blow
As thick as stars, an' white as snow;
Or cream-white blossoms be a-spread
About the guelder-rwoses' head;
How cool's the sheäde, or warm's the lewth,
Bezide a zummer hedge in blooth.
When we've a-work'd drough longsome hours,
Till dew's a-dried vrom dazzlèn flow'rs,
The while the climmèn zun ha' glow'd
Drough mwore than half his daily road:
Then where the sheädes do slily pass
Athirt our veet upon the grass,
As we do rest by lofty ranks
Ov elems on the flow'ry banks;
How cool's the sheäde, or warm's the lewth,
Bezide a zummer hedge in blooth.
But oh! below woone hedge's zide
Our jaÿ do come a-most to pride;
Out where the high-stemm'd trees do stand,
In row bezide our own free land,
An' where the wide-leav'd clote mid zwim
'Ithin our water's rushy rim:
An' raïn do vall, an' zuns do burn,
An' each in season, and in turn,
To cool the sheäde or warm the lewth
Ov our own zummer hedge in blooth.
How soft do sheäke the zummer hedge--
How soft do sway the zummer zedge--
How bright be zummer skies an' zun--
How bright the zummer brook do run;
An' feäir the flow'rs do bloom, to feäde
Behind the swaÿen mower's bleäde;
An' sweet be merry looks o' jaÿ,
By weäles an' pooks o' June's new haÿ,
Wi' smilèn age, an laughèn youth,
Bezide the zummer hedge in blooth.
