O V all the roads that ever bridge
Did bear athirt a river's feäce,
Or ho'ses up an' down the ridge
Did wear to doust at ev'ry peäce,
I'll teäke the Stalton leäne to tread,
By banks wi' primrwose-beds bespread,
An' steätely elems over head,
Where Ruth do come a-riden.

An' I would rise when vields be grey
Wi' mornen dew, avore 'tis dry,
An' beät the doust droughout the day
To bluest hills ov all the sky;
If there, avore the dusk o' night,
The evenen zun, a-sheenen bright,
Would paÿè my leäbors wi' the zight
O' Ruth — o' Ruth a-riden.

Her healthy feäce is rwosy feäir,
She's comely in her gait an' lim',
An' sweet's the smile her feäce do wear,
Below her cap's well-rounded brim;
An' while her skirt's a-spreäden wide,
In vwolds upon the ho'se's zide,
He'll toss his head, an' snort wi' pride,
To trot wi' Ruth a-riden.

An' as her ho'se's rottlen peäce
Do slacken till his veet do beät
A slower trot, an' till her feäce
Do bloom avore the tollman's geäte;
Oh! he'd be glad to oben wide
His high-back'd geäte, an' stand azide,
A-given up his toll wi' pride,
Vor zight o' Ruth a-riden.

An' oh! that Ruth could be my bride,
An' I had ho'ses at my will,
That I mid teäke her by my zide,
A-riden over dell an' hill;
I'd zet wi' pride her litty tooe
'Ithin a stirrup, sheenen new,
An' leäve all other jaÿès to goo
Along wi' Ruth a-riden.

If maidens that be weäk an' peäle
A-mwopen in the house's sheäde,
Would wish to be so blithe and heäle
As you did zee young Ruth a-meäde;
Then, though the zummer zun mid glow,
Or though the Winter win' mid blow,
They'd leäp upon the saddle's bow,
An' goo, lik' Ruth, a-riden.

While evenen light do sof'ly gild
The moss upon the elem's bark,
Avore the zingen bird's a-still'd,
Or woods be dim, or day is dark,
Wi' quiv'ren grass avore his breast,
In cowslip beds, do lie at rest,
The ho'se that now do goo the best
Wi' rwosy Ruth a-riden.