AYE, vull my heart's blood now do roll,

An’ gaÿ do rise my happy soul,

An’ well they mid, vor here our veet may

Avore woone vier ageän do meet; one fire

Vor you've avoun’ my feäce, to greet

Wi’ welcome words my startlèn ear. startled

An’ who be you, but John o’ Weer,

An’ I, but William Wellburn.

Here, light a candle up, to shed

Mwore light upon a wold friend's head,

An’ show the smile, his feäce woonce mwore once

Ha’ brought us vrom another shore.

An’ I'll heave on a brand avore

The vier back, to meäke good cheer, fire

O’ roarèn fleämes, vor John o’ Weer

To chat wi’ William Wellburn.

Aye, aye, it mid be true that zome,

When they do wander out vrom hwome,

Do leäve their nearest friends behind,

Bwoth out o’ zight, an’ out o’ mind;

But John an’ I ha’ ties to bind

Our souls together, vur or near, far

For, who is he but John o’ Weer,

An’ I, but William Wellburn.

Look, there he is, with twinklèn eyes,

An’ elbows down upon his thighs,

A-chucklèn low, wi’ merry grin.

Though time ha’ roughen'd up his chin,

'Tis still the seäme true soul 'ithin,

As woonce I know'd, when year by year, once

Thik very chap, thik John o’ Weer, that

Did plaÿ wi’ William Wellburn.

Come, John, come; don't be dead-alive half-dead

Here, reach us out your clust'r o’ vive. cluster of five (fingers)

Oh! you be happy. Ees, but that yes

Woon't do till you can laugh an’ chat.

Don't blinky, lik’ a purrèn cat,

But leäp an’ laugh, an’ let vo'k hear folk

What's happen'd, min, that John o’ Weer mate

Ha’ met wi’ William Wellburn.

Vor zome, wi’ selfishness too strong

Vor love, do do each other wrong;

An’ zome do wrangle an’ divide

In hets ov anger, bred o’ pride; heats

But who do think that time or tide

Can breed ill-will in friends so dear,

As William wer to John o’ Weer,

An’ John to William Wellburn?