From Barnes, William. Hwomely Rhymes. A Second Collection of Poems in the Dorset Dialect. London: J.R. Smith, 1859, page 3f:

MY ORCHET IN LINDEN LEA.

'Ithin the woodlands, flow'ry gleäded,
  By the woak tree's mossy moot,
The sheenèn grass-bleädes, timber-sheäded,
  Now do quiver under voot;
An' birds do whissle auver head,
An' water's bubblèn in its bed,
An' there vor me the apple tree
Do leän down low in Linden Lea.

When leaves that leätely wer a-springèn
  Now do feäde 'ithin the copse,
An' painted birds do hush ther zingèn
  Up upon the timber's tops;
An' brown-leav'd fruit's a-turnèn red,
In cloudless zunsheen, auver head,
Wi' fruit vor me, the apple tree
Do leän down low in Linden Lea.

Let other vo'k meäke money vaster
  In the aïr o' dark-room'd towns,
I don't dread a peevish meäster;
  Though noo man do heed my frowns,
I be free to goo abrode,
Or teäke ageän my hwomeward road
To where, vor me, the apple tree
Do leän down low in Linden Lea.