Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/162

146 But Jenny’s merry tongue wer dum’; &emsp;An’ round her comely neck she wore &emsp;A murnèn kerchif, where avore &emsp;&emsp;The rwose did deck her breast.

She walk’d alwone, wi’ eye-balls wet, To zee the flow’rs that she’d a-zet; The lilies, white’s her maïden frocks, The spike, to put ’ithin her box, Wi’ columbines an’ hollyhocks; &emsp;The jilliflow’r an’ noddèn pink, &emsp;An’ rwose that touch’d her soul to think &emsp;&emsp;Ov woone that deck’d her breast.

Vor at her weddèn, just avore Her maïden hand had yet a-wore A wife’s goold ring, wi’ hangèn head She walk’d along thik flower-bed, Where stocks did grow, a-staïned wi’ red, &emsp;An’ meärygoolds did skirt the walk, &emsp;An’ gather’d vrom the rwose’s stalk &emsp;&emsp;A bud to deck her breast.

An’ then her cheak, wi’ youthvul blood Wer bloomèn as the rwoses bud; But now, as she wi’ grief do pine, ’Tis peäle’s the milk-white jessamine. But Robert have a-left behine &emsp;A little beäby wi’ his feäce, &emsp;To smile, an’ nessle in the pleäce &emsp;&emsp;Where the rwose did deck her breast.