Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/266

250 An owl a-vleèn drough the wood Wer men on watch vor little good; An’ geätes a slam’d by wind, did goo, She thought, to let a robber drough.

But after all, she lik’d the zight &emsp;O’ cows asleep in glitt’r`rn dew; An’ brooks that gleam’d below the light, &emsp;An’ dim vield paths ’ithout a shoe. An’ gaïly talk’d bezide my ears, A-laughèn off her needless fears: Or had the childern uppermost In mind, instead o’ thief or ghost.

An’ when our house, wi’ open door, &emsp;Did rumble hollow round our heads, She heästen’d up to tother vloor, &emsp;To zee the childern in their beds; An’ vound woone little head awry, Wi’ woone a-turn’d toward the sky; An’ wrung her hands ageän her breast, A-smilèn at their happy rest.

the western zun, unclouded, &emsp;Up above the grey hill-tops, Did sheen drough ashes, lofty sh’ouded. &emsp;On the turf bezide the copse, &emsp;&emsp;In zummer weather, &emsp;&emsp;We together, &emsp;&emsp;Sorrow-slightèn, work-vorgettèn. &emsp;&emsp;Gambol’d wi’ the zun a-zetten.

There, by flow’ry bows o’ bramble, &emsp;Under hedge, in ash-tree sheädes,