Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/184

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in happy times we met, &emsp;Then by look an’ deed I show’d, How my love wer all a-zet &emsp;In the smiles that she bestow’d. She mid have, o’ left an’ right, Maïdens feäirest to the zight; I’d a-chose among em still, Pretty Jeäne o’ Grenley Mill.

She wer feäirer, by her cows &emsp;In her work-day frock a-drest, Than the rest wi’ scornvul brows &emsp;All a-flantèn in their best. Gaÿ did seem, at feäst or feäir, Zights that I had her to sheäre; Gaÿ would be my own heart still, But vor Jeäne o’ Grenley Mill.

Jeäne—a-checkèn ov her love— &emsp;Leän’d to woone that, as she guess’d, Stood in worldly wealth above &emsp;Me she know’d she lik’d the best. He wer wild, an’ soon run drough All that he’d a-come into, Heartlessly a-treatèn ill Pretty Jeäne o’ Grenley Mill.

Oh! poor Jenny! thou’st a-tore &emsp;Hopèn love vrom my poor heart, Losèn vrom thy own small store, &emsp;All the better, sweeter peärt. Hearts a-slighted must vorseäke Slighters, though a-doom’d to break; I must scorn, but love thee still, Pretty Jeäne o’ Grenley Mill.