When mornèn winds, a-blowèn high, Do zweep the clouds vrom all the sky, An' laurel-leaves do glitter bright, The while the newly broken light Do brighten up, avore our view, The vields wi' green, an' hills wi' blue; What then can highten to my eyes The cheerful feäce ov e'th an' skies, But Meäry's smile, o' Morey's Mill, My rwose o' Mowy Lea. An' when, at last, the evenèn dews Do now begin to wet our shoes; An' night's a-ridèn to the west, To stop our work, an' gi'e us rest, Oh! let the candle's ruddy gleäre But brighten up her sheenèn heäir; Or else, as she do walk abroad, Let moonlight show, upon the road, My Meäry's smile, o' Morey's Mill, My rwose o' Mowy Lea. An' O! mid never tears come on, To wash her feäce's blushes wan, Nor kill her smiles that now do plaÿ Like sparklèn weäves in zunny Maÿ; But mid she still, vor all she's gone Vrom souls she now do smile upon, Show others they can vind woone jaÿ To turn the hardest work to plaÿ. My Meäry's smile, o' Morey's Mill, My rwose o' Mowy Lea. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...VLAMERTINGHE: PASSING THE CHATEAU, JULY 1917 by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN BROOKLYN BRIDGE by CHARLES GEORGE DOUGLAS ROBERTS CHRIST TO HIS SPOUSE by WILLIAM BALDWIN EXTEMPORE VERSES ON A TRIAL OF SKILL BETWEEN MSSRS. FIGG AND SUTTON by JOHN BYROM HALT AND PARLEY by GEORGE HERBERT CLARKE |