The Railroad

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An' while I went 'ithin a traïn,
  A-ridèn on athirt the plaïn,
  A-cleären swifter than a hound,
  On twin-laid rails, the zwimmèn ground;
  I cast my eyes 'ithin a park,
  Upon a woak wi' grey-white bark,
  An' while I kept his head my mark,
  The rest did wheel around en.

  An' when in life our love do cling
  The clwosest round zome single thing,
  We then do vind that all the rest
  Do wheel roun' that, vor vu'st an' best;
  Zoo while our life do last, mid nought
  But what is good an' feäir be sought,
  In word or deed, or heart or thought,
  An' all the rest wheel round it.

© William Barnes