Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/157

Rh Zoo while our blood do run in vaïns O’ livèn souls in theäsum plaïns, Mid happy housen smoky round The church an’ holy bit o’ ground; An’ while their weddèn bells do sound, Oh! mid em have the meäns o’ greäce, The holy day an’ holy pleäce, &emsp;The church an’ happy Zunday.

girt wold waggon uncle had, When I wer up a hardish lad, Did stand, a-screen’d vrom het an’ wet, In zummer at the barken geäte, Below the elems’ spreadèn boughs, A-rubb’d by all the pigs an’ cows. An’ I’ve a-clom his head an’ zides, A-riggèn up or jumpèn down A-plaÿèn, or in happy rides Along the leäne or drough the groun’. An’ many souls be in their greäves, That rod’ together on his reäves; An’ he, an’ all the hosses too, ’V a-ben a-done vor years agoo.

Upon his head an’ taïl wer pinks, A-païnted all in tangled links; His two long zides wer blue,—his bed Bent slightly upward at the head; His reäves rose upward in a bow Above the slow hind-wheels below. Vour hosses wer a-kept to pull The girt wold waggon when ’twer vull; The black meäre Smiler, strong enough To pull a house down by herzuf,