  I I geet up a-milkin’ this mornin’,— I geet up afore it wur leet; I ne’er slept a minute for thinkin’ What Robin said yesterneet; I’ve brokken two basins i’th dairy; I’ve scoaded my gronny wi’ tay; It’s no use a tryin’ a-spinnin’— My wheel’s eawt o’ trim to-day. Chorus. It’s oh, yon Robin, yon Robin; His e’en ne’er twinkle’t so breet, As they did when he meazur’t my finger For th’ little gowd ring last neet. Eawr Dorothy’s singin’ i’th shippon; Eawr Jonathan’s leawngin’ i’th fowd; Eawr Tummy’s at th’ fair, where he lippens O’ swappin’ his cowt for gowd; Chorus—But oh, yon Robin, yon Robin. Th’ lasses an’ lads are i’th meadow; They’re gettin’ their baggin’ i’th hay; I yer ’em as leetsome as layrocks, I’th sky ov a shiny day; But, little I care for their marlocks; I dunnot want them for to see, Though I’m fitter for cryin’ than laughin’, There’s nob’dy as fain as me. Chorus—For oh, yon Robin, yon Robin. When I crept into th’ nook wi’ my sewin’, My mother looked reawnd so sly; Hoo know’d I could see across th’ coppice, Where Robin comes ridin’ by; Then hoo coom to me, smilin’ an’ tootin’, An’ whisperin’, “Heaw doesto feel? Dost think I should send for a doctor?” But, th’ doctor hoo knows reet weel. Chorus—It’s nought i’th world but Robin. My feyther sits dozin’ i’th corner, He’s dreamin’ o’th harvest day; When Robin comes in for his daughter, Eh, what’ll my feyther say? Th’ rosebuds are peepin’ i’th garden; An’ th’ blossom’s o’th apple tree; Oh, heaw will life’s winter time find us,— Yon Robin o’ mine, an’ me? Chorus—For oh, yon Robin, yon Robin. Then, hey for kisses an’ blushes, An’ hurryin’ to an’ fro; An’ hey for sly, sweet whispers, That nob’dy but me mun know! Then, hey for rings, an’ ribbins, An’ bonnets, an’ posies fine! An’ eh,—it’s o’ in a flutter,— This little fond heart o’ mine! Chorus. For oh, yon Robin, yon Robin; His e’en ne’er twinkle’t so breet, As they did when he meazur’t my finger For th’ little gowd ring last neet. _
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