  Deid winter’s n?t sa dark to me As t’ lang leet days o’ t’ spring;— I hate to see a swallow flee, Or hear a throssle sing; I greÀn at t’ fresh green leaves on t’ trees; I turn frae t’ flooers o’ May, For t’ croft was white wid dog-daisies When Jwohn was teÀn away. We coortit lang, dud Jwohn an’ me— We waitit lang an’ sair— He thowte oor weddin’ m?dn’t be While beÀth war poor an’ bare; An’ sep’rat’, I gat past my prime, Jwohn barrow-back’t an’ grey;— Reet sair I grudg’t that wastit time, When Jwohn was teÀn away. Jwohn pinch’t an’ spar’t, an’ tew’t an’ streÀv, Till t’ heart wid-in him brak’— Still aimin’ brass aneuf to seÀv, Some lal bit farm to tak’: An’ when he’d gitten t’ farm an’ me, ’Twas plain he m?dn’t stay;— He dwined through t’ winter dark an’ dree— I’ t’ spring was teÀn away. We may’d hed many a happy year, If thowte to t’ winds we’d flung, An’ join’t oor strength life’s leÀd to beear, When beÀth war lish an’ y?ng: But widdert was oor flooer o’ life Afoor oor weddin’ day; An’ I’d n?t been ya year a wife When Jwohn was teÀn away. Sooa t’ spring o’ life na s?mmer browte, To my poor man or me; An’ t’ spring o’ t’ year noo brings me nowte But t’ mind o’ misery. I can’t see what anudder sees I’ t’ fields an’ t’ flooers o’ May, For t’ croft was white wid dog-daisies When Jwohn was teÀn away. |
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