Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/128

112 Ah! an’ how she did like vor to deck wi’ red Holly-berries the window an’ wold clock’s head, An’ the clavy wi’ boughs o’ some bright green leaves, An’ to meäke twoast an’ eäle upon Chris’mas eves; &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;But she’s now, drough greäce, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;In a better pleäce, Though we’ll never vorget her, poor soul, nor lose Gramfer’s token ov heäir, nor her weddèn shoes.

winter clouds, that long did hide The zun, be all a-blown azide, An’ in the light, noo longer dim, Do sheen the ivy that do clim’ The tower’s zide an’ elem’s stim; &emsp;An’ holmen bushes, in between &emsp;The leafless thorns, be bright an’ green &emsp;&emsp;To zunsheen o’ the winter.

The trees, that yesterday did twist In wind’s a-drevèn rain an’ mist, Do now drow sheädes out, long an’ still; But roarèn watervals do vill Their whirlèn pools below the hill, &emsp;Where, wi’ her païl upon the stile, &emsp;A-gwaïn a-milkèn Jeäne do smile &emsp;&emsp;To zunsheen o’ the winter.

The birds do sheäke, wi’ plaÿsome skips, The raïn-drops off the bushes’ tips, A-chirripèn wi’ merry sound; While over all the grassy ground The wind’s a-whirlèn round an’ round &emsp;So softly, that the day do seem &emsp;Mwore lik’ a zummer in a dream, &emsp;&emsp;Than zunsheen in the winter.