Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/138

122 An’ sheäke right hands wi’ hearty cheer, An’ let their left hands spill their beer, &emsp;A keepèn up o’ Chris’mas.

raïn or sheen, or blow or snow, &emsp;I zaid, if I could stand so’s, I’d come, vor all a friend or foe, &emsp;To sheäke ye by the hand, so’s; An’ spend, wi’ kinsvo’k near an’ dear, A happy evenèn, woonce a year, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;A-zot wi’ me’th &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Avore the he’th &emsp;To zee the new year in, so’s.

There’s Jim an’ Tom, a-grown the size &emsp;O’ men, girt lusty chaps, so’s, An’ Fanny wi’ her sloo-black eyes, &emsp;Her mother’s very dap’s, so’s; An’ little Bill, so brown’s a nut, An’ Poll a gigglèn little slut. &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;I hope will shoot &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Another voot &emsp;The year that’s comèn in, so’s.

An’ there, upon his mother’s knee, &emsp;So peärt do look about, so’s, The little woone ov all, to zee &emsp;His vu’st wold year goo out, so’s An’ zoo mid God bless all o’s still, Gwaïn up or down along the hill, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;To meet in glee &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Ageän to zee &emsp;A happy new year in, so’s.