The grass mid sheen when wat'ry beäds
O' dew do glitter on the meäds,
An' thorns be bright when quiv'rèn studs
O' raïn do hang upon their buds--
As jewels be a-meäde by art
To zet the plaïnest vo'k off smart.
But sheäkèn ivy on its tree,
An' low-bough'd laurel at our knee,
Be bright all daÿ, without the gleäre,
O' drops that duller leäves mid weär--
As Jeäne is feäir to look upon
In plaïnest gear that she can don.
