Ov all the meäds wi’ shoals an’ pools,

Where streams did sheäke the limber zedge, pliant

An’ milkèn vo'k did teäke their stools, folk

In evenèn zun-light under hedge:

Ov all the wears the brook did vill, weirs

Or all the hatches where a sheet

O’ foam did leäp below woone's veet, one's

The pleäce vor me wer Leeburn Mill.

An’ while below the mossy wheel

All day the foamèn stream did roar,

An’ up in mill the floatèn meal

Did pitch upon the sheäkèn vloor,

We then could vind but vew han's still, few

Or veet a-restèn off the ground,

An’ seldom hear the merry sound

O’ geämes a-plaÿ'd at Leeburn Mill.

But when they let the stream goo free,

Bezide the drippèn wheel at rest,

An’ leaves upon the poplar-tree

Wer dark avore the glowèn west;

An’ when the clock, a-ringèn sh'ill, loudly

Did slowly beät zome evenèn hour,

Oh! then 'ithin the leafy bow'r

Our tongues did run at Leeburn Mill.

An’ when November's win’ did blow,

Wi’ hufflèn storms along the plaïn, gusty

An’ blacken'd leaves did lie below

The neäked tree, a-zoak'd wi’ raïn,

I werden at a loss to vill wasn't

The darkest hour o’ raïny skies,

If I did vind avore my eyes

The feäces down at Leeburn Mill.