The Wife a-Lost

Since I noo mwore do zee your feace,Up steairs or down below,I’ll zit me in the lwonesome pleace,Where flat-bough’d beech do grow;Below the beeches’ bough, my love,5Where you did never come,An’ I don’t look to meet ye now,As I do look at hwome.

Since you noo mwore be at my zide,In walks in zummer het,10I’ll goo alwone where mist do ride,Drough trees a-drippen wet;Below the rain-wet bough, my love,Where you did never come,An’ I don’t grieve to miss ye now,15As I do grieve at hwome.

Since now bezide my dinner-bwoardYour vaice do never sound,I’ll eat the bit I can avword,A-vield upon the ground;20Below the darksome bough, my love,Where you did never dine,An’ I don’t grieve to miss ye now,As I at hwome do pine.

Since I do miss your vaice an’ feace25In prayer at eventide,I’ll pray wi’ woone sad vaice vor greaceTo goo where you do bide;Above the tree an’ bough, my love,Where you be gone avore,30An’ be a-waiten vor me now,To come vor evermwore.