DEAR Yarrowham, 'twer many miles

Vrom thy green meäds that, in my walk,

I met a maïd wi’ winnèn smiles,

That talk'd as vo'k at hwome do talk; folk

An’ who at last should she be vound,

Ov all the souls the sky do bound,

But woone that trod at vu'st thy groun’ one, first

Fair Emily ov Yarrow Mill.

But thy wold house an’ elmy nook, old

An’ wall-screen'd geärden's mossy zides,

Thy grassy meäds an’ zedgy brook,

An’ high-bank'd leänes, wi’ sheädy rides,

Wer all a-known to me by light

Ov eärly days, a-quench'd by night,

Avore they met the younger zight

Ov Emily ov Yarrow Mill.

An’ now my heart do leäp to think

O’ times that I've a-spent in plaÿ,

Bezide thy river's rushy brink,

Upon a deäizybed o’ Maÿ;

I lov'd the friends thy land ha’ bore,

An’ I do love the paths they wore,

An’ I do love thee all the mwore,

Vor Emily ov Yarrow Mill.

When bright above the e'th below earth

The moon do spread abroad his light, around

An’ aïr o’ zummer nights do blow

Athirt the vields in plaÿsome flight, across

'Tis then delightsome under all

The sheädes o’ boughs by path or wall, shadows

But mwostly thine when they do vall

On Emily ov Yarrow Mill.