Òåêñò îðèãèíàëà íà àíãëèéñêîì ÿçûêå First Collection. Spring. Jenny’s Ribbons Jean ax’d what ribbon she should wear ’Ithin her bonnet to the feäir? She had woone white, a-gi’ed her when She stood at Meäry’s chrissenèn; She had woone brown, she had woone red, A keepseäke vrom her brother dead, That she did like to wear, to goo To zee his greäve below the yew. She had woone green among her stock, That I’d a-bought to match her frock; She had woone blue to match her eyes, The colour o’ the zummer skies, An’ thik, though I do like the rest, Is he that I do like the best, Because she had en in her heäir When vu’st I walk’d wi’ her at feäir The brown, I zaid, would do to deck Thy heäir; the white would match thy neck; The red would meäke thy red cheäk wan A-thinkèn o’ the gi’er gone; The green would show thee to be true; But still I’d sooner zee the blue, Because ’twer he that deck’d thy heäir When vu’st I walk’d wi’ thee at feäir. Zoo, when she had en on, I took Her han’ ’ithin my elbow’s crook. An’ off we went athirt the weir An’ up the meäd toward the feäir; The while her mother, at the geäte, Call’d out an’ bid her not staÿ leäte, An’ she, a-smilèn wi’ her bow O’ blue, look’d roun’ and nodded, No. |
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