AH! I do think, as I do tread

Theäse path, wi’ elems overhead, this

A-climèn slowly up vrom Bridge,

By easy steps, to Broadwoak Ridge,

That all theäse roads that we do bruise these

Wi’ hosses’ shoes, or heavy lwoads;

An’ hedges’ bands, where trees in row

Do rise an’ grow aroun’ the lands,

Be works that we've a-vound a-wrought

By our vorefathers’ ceäre an’ thought.

They clear'd the groun’ vor grass to teäke

The pleäce that bore the bremble breäke,

An’ draïn'd the fen, where water spread,

A-lyèn dead, a beäne to men; bane

An’ built the mill, where still the wheel

Do grind our meal, below the hill;

An’ turn'd the bridge, wi’ arch a-spread,

Below a road, vor us to tread.

They vound a pleäce, where we mid seek might

The gifts o’ greäce vrom week to week;

An’ built wi’ stwone, upon the hill,

A tow'r we still do call our own;

With bells to use, an’ meäke rejaïce,

Wi’ giant vaïce, at our good news:

An’ lifted stwones an’ beams to keep

The raïn an’ cwold vrom us asleep.

Zoo now mid nwone ov us vorget so, may

The pattern our vorefathers zet;

But each be faïn to underteäke

Some work to meäke vor others’ gaïn,

That we mid leäve mwore good to sheäre, may

Less ills to bear, less souls to grieve,

An’ when our hands do vall to rest,

It mid be vrom a work a-blest.