Hallowed Pleaeces

At Woodcombe farm, wi' ground an' treeHallow'd by times o' youthvul glee,At Chris'mas time I spent a nightWi' feaeces dearest to my zight;An' took my wife to tread, woonce mwore,Her maiden hwome's vorseaeken vloor,An' under stars that slowly wheel'dAloft, above the keen-air'd vield,While night bedimm'd the rus'len copse,An' darken'd all the ridges' tops,The hall, a-hung wi' holly, rungWi' many a tongue o' wold an' young.

There, on the he'th's well-hetted ground,Hallow'd by times o' zitten round,The brimvul mug o' cider stoodAn' hiss'd avore the bleaezen wood;An' zome, a-zitten knee by knee,Did tell their teaeles wi' hearty glee,An' others gamboll'd in a roarO' laughter on the stwonen vloor;An' while the moss o' winter-tideClung chilly roun' the house's zide,The hall, a-hung wi' holly, rungWi' many a tongue o' wold an' young.

There, on the pworches bench o' stwone,Hallow'd by times o' youthvul fun,We laugh'd an' sigh'd to think o' neaemesThat rung there woonce, in evenen geaemes;An' while the swayen cypress bow'd,In chilly wind, his darksome sh'oudAn' honeyzuckles, beaere o' leaeves,Still reach'd the window-sheaeden eavesUp where the clematis did trimThe stwonen arches mossy rim,The hall, a-hung wi' holly, rungWi' many a tongue o' wold an' young.

There, in the geaerden's wall-bound square,Hallow'd by times o' strollen there,The winter wind, a-hufflen loud,Did sway the pear-tree's leafless sh'oud,An' beaet the bush that woonce did bearThe damask rwose vor Jenny's heaeir;An' there the walk o' peaeven stwoneThat burn'd below the zummer zun,Struck icy-cwold drough shoes a-woreBy maidens vrom the hetted vloorIn hall, a-hung wi' holm, where rungVull many a tongue o' wold an' young.

There at the geaete that woonce wer blueHallow'd by times o' passen drough,Light strawmotes rose in flaggen flight,A-floated by the winds o' night,Where leafy ivy-stems did crawlIn moonlight on the windblown wall,An' merry maidens' vaices vledIn echoes sh'ill, vrom wall to shed,As shiv'ren in their frocks o' whiteThey come to bid us there "Good night,"Vrom hall, a-hung wi' holm, that rungWi' many a tongue o' wold an' young.

There in the narrow leaene an' drongHallow'd by times o' gwain along,The lofty ashes' leafless sh'oudsRose dark avore the clear-edged clouds,The while the moon, at girtest height,Bespread the pooly brook wi' light,An' as our child, in loose-limb'd rest,Lay peaele upon her mother's breast,Her waxen eyelids seal'd her eyesVrom darksome trees, an' sheenen skies,An' halls a-hung wi' holm, that rungWi' many a tongue, o' wold an' young.