  T Th’ wynt wur still i’th shade o’th hill, An’ stars began o’ glowin’ I’th’ fadin’ leet, one summer neet, When th’ dew wur softly foin’; Wi’ weary shanks, by primrose banks, Where rindlin’ weet wur shinin’, Aw whistle’t careless, wanderin’ slow Toward my cot inclinin’. Through th’ woodlan’ green aw tooted keen, For th’ little window winkin’;— Th’ stars may shine, they’re noan as fine As Matty’s candle blinkin’; O’er th’ rosy hedge aw went to th’ ridge O’th lonesome-shaded plantin’, To get another blink o’ th’ leet That set my heart a-pantin’. Then deawn bi’th well i’th fairy-dell, Wi’ trees aboon it knittin’, Where, near an’ fur, ther nowt astur But bats i’th eawl-leet flittin’; An’ fearfo’ seawnds that rustle’t reawnd Wi’ mony a goblin-twitter, As swarmin’ dark to flaysome wark They flew wi’ hellish titter. There, reet anent aw geet a glent At brought a shiver o’er mo, For, fair i’th track ther summat black Coom creepin’ on afore mo; It wur not clear, but it wur theer,— Wi’ th’ gloomy shadow blendin’, Neaw black an’ slim, neaw grey an’ grim, Wi’ noather side nor endin’. Cowd drops wur tremblin’ o’ my broo, As there aw stood belated;— Aw durstn’t turn, nor durstn’t goo, But shut my e’en, an’ waited; An’ just as aw begun to pray, There coom fro’ th’ creepin’ spectre A weel known seawnd that said, “Well, James!”— ’Twur nowt but th’ village rector. “Well, James,” said he, “I’m fain to see Yo’r pew so weel attended; But then, yo shouldn’t fo’ asleep Afore my sarmon’s ended: To dreawsy ears it’s useless quite To scatter holy teychin’: Why don’t yo bring a bit o’ snuff, An’ tak it while I’m preychin’.” “Well, well,” said aw, “There’s mony a way O’ keepin’ e’en fro’ closin’; A needle would keep th’ body wake, An’ th’ soul met still be dozin’; But this receipt would set it reet, Iv th’ mixture wur a warm un,— Yo’m get some stingin’ gospel-snuff, An’ put it into th’ sarmon.” He stare’t like mad, but th’ good owd lad Then grip’t my hond, warm-hearted, An’ said, “Yo’re reet, yo’re reet—good neet!” An’ that wur heaw we parted. It touched my heart, an’ made it smart, He spoke so mild and pratty; Aw blest him as he walked away, An’ then went whoam to Matty. _
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