The Castle Ruins

A happy day at Whitsuntide, As soon s the zun begun to vall, We all strolld up the steep hill-zide To Meldon, gret an small; Out where the Castle wall stood high A-mwoldren to the zunny sky. An there wi Jenny took a stroll Her youngest sister, Poll, so gay, Bezide John Hind, ah! merry soul, An mid her wedlock fay; An at our zides did play an run My little maid an smaller son. Above the baten mwold upsprung The driven doust, a-spreaden light, An on the new-leavd thorn, a-hung, Wer wool a-quivren white; An corn, a-sheenen bright, did bow, On slopen Meldons zunny brow. There, down the roofless wall did glow The zun upon the grassy vloor, An weakly-wandren winds did blow, Unhinderd by a door; An smokeless now avore the zun Did stan the ivy-girded tun. My bwoy did watch the daws bright wings A-flappen vrom their ivy bowrs; My wife did watch my maids light springs, Out here an there vor flowrs; And John did zee noo towrs, the place Vor him had only Pollys face. An there, of all that pried about The walls, I overlookd em best, An what o that? Why, I made out Noo mwore than all the rest: That there wer woonce the nest of zome That wer a-gone avore we come. When woonce above the tun the smoke Did wreathy blue among the trees, An down below, the liven vok Did tweil as brisk as bees: Or zit wi weary knees, the while The sky wer lightless to their tweil.