Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/153

Rh Her heart’s so innocent an’ kind, She idden thoughtless, but do mind &emsp;Her mother an’ her duty; An’ livèn blushes, that do spread Upon her healthy feäce o’ red, &emsp;Do heighten all her beauty; So quick’s a bird, so neat’s a cat, &emsp;So cheerful in her neätur, The best o’ maïdens to come at &emsp;’S a farmer’s woldest dā’ter.

&emsp;&emsp; uncle had thik small hwomestead, &emsp;&emsp;The leäzes an’ the bits o’ meadmeäd [sic], &emsp;&emsp;Besides the orcha’d in his prime, &emsp;&emsp;An’ copse-wood vor the winter time. &emsp;&emsp;His wold black meäre, that draw’d his cart, &emsp;&emsp;An’ he, wer seldom long apeärt; &emsp;&emsp;Vor he work’d hard an’ païd his woy, &emsp;&emsp;An’ zung so litsom as a bwoy, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;As he toss’d an’ work’d, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;An blow’d an’ quirk’d, &emsp;&emsp;“I’m out o’ debt an’ out o’ danger, &emsp;&emsp;An’ I can feäce a friend or stranger; I’ve a vist vor friends, an’ I’ll vind a peäir Vor the vu’st that do meddle wi’ me or my meäre.

&emsp;&emsp;His meäre’s long vlexy vetlocks grow’d &emsp;&emsp;Down roun’ her hoofs so black an’ brode; &emsp;&emsp;Her head hung low, her taïl reach’d down &emsp;&emsp;A-bobbèn nearly to the groun’. &emsp;&emsp;The cwoat that uncle mwostly wore &emsp;&emsp;Wer long behind an’ straïght avore,