Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/130

114 A leädy, as the teäle do goo, That woonce liv’d there, an’ lov’d too true, Wer by a young man cast azide. A mother sad, but not a bride; An’ then her father, in his pride &emsp;An’ anger, offer’d woone o’ two &emsp;Vull bitter things to undergoo &emsp;&emsp;To thik poor weepèn leädy:

That she herzelf should leäve his door, To darken it ageän noo mwore; Or that her little plaÿsome chile, A-zent away a thousand mile, Should never meet her eyes to smile &emsp;An’ plaÿ ageän; till she, in sheäme, &emsp;Should die an’ leäve a tarnish’d neäme, &emsp;&emsp;A sad vorseäken leädy.

“Let me be lost,” she cried, “the while I do but know vor my poor chile;” An’ left the hwome ov all her pride, To wander drough the worold wide, Wi’ grief that vew but she ha’ tried: &emsp;An’ lik’ a flow’r a blow ha’ broke, &emsp;She wither’d wi’ the deadly stroke, &emsp;&emsp;An’ died a weepèn leädy.

An’ she do keep a-comèn on To zee her father dead an’ gone, As if her soul could have noo rest Avore her teäry cheäk’s a-prest By his vorgivèn kiss. Zoo blest &emsp;Be they that can but live in love, &emsp;An’ vind a pleäce o’ rest above &emsp;&emsp;Unlik’ the weepèn leädy.