We Do'set, though we mid be hwomely, Be'nt asheamed to own our pleace; An' we've zome women not uncomely; Nor asheamed to show their feace; We've a mead or two wo'th mowen,...
And passing here through evening dew, He hastened happy to her door, But found the old folk only two With no more footsteps on the floor To walk again below the skies...