Classic Poem

The bars on the timber'd ridge do span
The gap that avore the sky do show
The vo'k, all a-climben to or fro,
Woman by woman, man by man.

To strangers that once do reach the gap,
How feäir is the dell beyond the ridge,
Wi' houses, an' trees, an' church, an' bridge,
Wood upon wood, or knap by knap.

Down here be some pleasant ways to rove;
But, oh! 'tis another pleäce, behind
The bars, that do teäke the mwost my mind,
Orchard by orchard, grove by grove.

When under the moon, above the ledge,
The glossy-worn upper bar do sheen,
And light do shoot down the path, between
Rail upon rail, an' edge by edge;

Then there is my way, while wind do sound
So softly on boughs, where lights and sheädes
Do plaÿè on the slope, by knaps an' gleädes,
Tree upon tree, an' mound by mound.