... The creamy elder mellowed into wine. The russet hip that was the pink-white rose; The amber woodbine into rnbies turned, blackberry that was the bramble born ; Nor let the seeded clematis bo spurned, Nor pearls, that now are corals, of the thorn. Look ...

... nowt nobbut th' safety o' my skin, as it isno' pleasant walkin' through th' Jones wi' a face that looks as if it war anlus blackberry time. I'd made up my mind, as we had to go to Ireland on our own hook,— why hook I dunno' know, but gentlefolk uaen th' ...