Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/113

Rh Then up come zidelèn Sammy Heäre, That’s fond o’ Poll, an’ she can’t bear, A-holdèn out his girt scram vist, An’ ax’d her, wi’ a grin an’ twist, To have zome nuts; an’ she, to hide Her laughèn, turn’d her head azide, An’ answer’d that she’d rather not, But Nancy mid. Am’ Nan, so hot As vier, zaid ’twer quite enough Vor Poll to answer vor herzuf: She had a tongue, she zaid, an’ wit Enough to use en, when ’twer fit. An’ in the dusk, a-ridèn round Drough Okford, who d’ye think we vound But Sam ageän, a-gwäin vrom feäir Astride his broken-winded meäre. An’ zoo, a-hettèn her, he tried To keep up clwose by ouer zide: But when we come to Haÿward-brudge, Our Poll gi’ed Dick a meänèn nudge, An’ wi’ a little twitch our meäre Flung out her lags so lights a heäre, An’ left poor Sammy’s skin an’ bwones Behind, a-kickèn o’ the stwones.

, bring a log o’ cleft wood, Jack, An’ fling en on ageän the back, An’ zee the outside door is vast,— The win’ do blow a cwoldish blast. Come, so’s! come, pull your chairs in roun’ Avore the vire; an’ let’s zit down, An’ keep up Martin’s-tide, vor I Shall keep it up till I do die.