Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/230

214 Or else, as she do walk abroad, Let moonlight show, upon the road, &emsp;&emsp;My Meäry’s smile, o’ Morey’s Mill, &emsp;&emsp;My rwose o’ Mowy Lea.

An’ O! mid never tears come on, To wash her feäce’s blushes wan, Nor kill her smiles that now do plaÿ Like sparklèn weäves in zunny Maÿ; But mid she still, vor all she’s gone Vrom souls she now do smile upon, Show others they can vind woone jaÿ To turn the hardest work to plaÿ. &emsp;&emsp;My Meäry’s smile, o’ Morey’s Mill. &emsp;&emsp;My rwose o’ Mowy Lea.

zun can zink, the stars mid rise, An’ woods be green to sheenèn skies; The cock mid crow to mornèn light, An’ workvo’k zing to vallèn night; The birds mid whissle on the spraÿ, An’ childern leäp in merry plaÿ, But our’s is now a lifeless pleäce, Vor we’ve a-lost a smilèn feäce— &emsp;&emsp;Young Meäry Meäd o’ merry mood, &emsp;&emsp;Vor she’s a-woo’d an’ wedded.

The dog that woonce wer glad to bear Her fondlèn vingers down his heäir, Do leän his head ageän the vloor, To watch, wi’ heavy eyes, the door; An’ men she zent so happy hwome O’ Zadurdays, do seem to come