Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/131

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happy days when I wer young, An’ had noo ho, an’ laugh’d an’ zung, The maïd wer merry by her cow, An’ men wer merry wi’ the plough; But never talk’d, at hwome or out O’ doors, o’ what’s a-talk’d about By many now,—that to despise The laws o’ God an’ man is wise. Wi’ daïly health, an’ daïly bread, An’ thatch above their shelter’d head, They velt noo fear, an’ had noo spite, To keep their eyes awake at night; But slept in peace wi’ God on high An’ man below, an’ fit to die.

O’ grassy mead an’ woody nook, An’ waters o’ the windèn brook, That sprung below the vu’st dark sky That raïn’d, to run till seas be dry; An’ hills a-stannèn on while all The works o’ man do rise an’ vall; An’ trees the toddlèn child do vind At vu’st, an’ leäve at last behind; I wish that you could now unvwold The peace an’ jäyjaÿ [sic] o’ times o’ wold; An’ tell, when death do still my tongue, O’ happy days when I wer young. Vrom where wer all this venom brought, To kill our hope an’ taïnt our thought? Clear brook! thy water coulden bring Such venom vrom thy rocky spring; Nor could it come in zummer blights, Or reävèn storms o’ winter nights,