Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/180

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house where I wer born an’ bred, &emsp;Did own his woaken door, John, When vu’st he shelter’d father’s head, &emsp;An’ gramfer’s long avore, John. An’ many a ramblèn happy chile, &emsp;An’ chap so strong an’ bwold, An’ bloomèn maïd wi’ plaÿsome smile, &emsp;Did call their hwome o’ wold &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Thik ruf so warm, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;A kept vrom harm By elem trees that broke the storm.

An’ in the orcha’d out behind, &emsp;The apple-trees in row, John, Did swaÿ wi’ moss about their rind &emsp;Their heads a-noddèn low, John. An’ there, bezide zome groun’ vor corn, &emsp;Two strips did skirt the road; In woone the cow did toss her horn, &emsp;While tother wer a-mow’d, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;In June, below &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;The lofty row Ov trees that in the hedge did grow.

A-workèn in our little patch &emsp;O’ parrock, rathe or leäte, John, We little ho’d how vur mid stratch &emsp;The squier’s wide esteäte, John. Our hearts, so honest an’ so true, &emsp;Had little vor to fear; Vor we could paÿ up all their due, &emsp;An’ gi’e a friend good cheer &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;At hwome, below &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;The lofty row O’ trees a-swaÿèn to an’ fro.