Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect. Barnes William

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Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect - Barnes William

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440 Withstanders 441 Daniel Dwithen 442 Turnèn things off 444 The Giants in Treädes 445 The Little Worold 447 Bad News 448 The Turnstile 449 The Better vor zeèn o' you 450 Pity 451 John Bloom in Lon'on 453 A Lot o' Maïdens 456

       Table of Contents

A List of Some Dorset Words 459

       Table of Contents

       Table of Contents

       [page 3]

       Table of Contents

      THE SPRING.

      When wintry weather's all a-done,

      An' brooks do sparkle in the zun,

      An' nâisy-buildèn rooks do vlee

      Wi' sticks toward their elem tree;

      When birds do zing, an' we can zee

      Upon the boughs the buds o' spring—

      Then I'm as happy as a king,

      A-vield wi' health an' zunsheen.

      Vor then the cowslip's hangèn flow'r

      A-wetted in the zunny show'r,

      Do grow wi' vi'lets, sweet o' smell,

      Bezide the wood-screen'd grægle's bell;

      Where drushes' aggs, wi' sky-blue shell,

      Do lie in mossy nest among

      The thorns, while they do zing their zong

      At evenèn in the zunsheen.

      An' God do meäke his win' to blow

      An' raïn to vall vor high an' low,

      An' bid his mornèn zun to rise

      Vor all alike, an' groun' an' skies

      Ha' colors vor the poor man's eyes:

      An' in our trials He is near,

      To hear our mwoan an' zee our tear,

      An' turn our clouds to zunsheen.

      An' many times when I do vind

      Things all goo wrong, an' vo'k unkind,

      To zee the happy veedèn herds,

      An' hear the zingèn o' the birds,

      Do soothe my sorrow mwore than words;

      Vor I do zee that 'tis our sin

      Do meäke woone's soul so dark 'ithin,

      When God would gi'e woone zunsheen.

      THE WOODLANDS.

      O spread ageän your leaves an' flow'rs,

      Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands!

      Here underneath the dewy show'rs

      O' warm-aïr'd spring-time, zunny woodlands!

      As when, in drong or open ground,

      Wi' happy bwoyish heart I vound

      The twitt'rèn birds a-buildèn round

      Your high-bough'd hedges, zunny woodlands.

      You gie'd me life, you gie'd me jaÿ,

      Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands

      You gie'd me health, as in my plaÿ

      I rambled through ye, zunny woodlands!

      You gie'd me freedom, vor to rove

      In aïry meäd or sheädy grove;

      You gie'd me smilèn Fannèy's love,

      The best ov all o't, zunny woodlands!

      My vu'st shrill skylark whiver'd high,

      Lwonesome woodlands! zunny woodlands!

      To

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