As clouds did ride wi' heästy flight An' woods did sway upon the height An' bleädes o' grass did sheäke, below The hedge-row bremble's swingèn bow I come back hwome where winds did zwell In whirls along the woody gleädes On primrwose beds, in windy sheädes To Burnley's dark-tree'd dell There hills do screen the timber's bough The trees do screen the leäze's brow The timber-sheäded leäze do bear A beaten path that we do wear The path do stripe the leäze's zide, To willows at the river's edge. Where hufflèn winds did sheäke the zedge An' sparklèn weaves did glide An' where the river, bend by bend Do drain our mead, an' mark its end The hangèn leäze do teäke our cows An' trees do sheäde em wi' their boughs An' I the quicker beat the road To zee a-comèn into view Still greener vrom the sky-line's blue Wold Burnley our abode