Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/271

Rh The while the zand o’ time do run An’ leäve his errand still undone. An’ oh! as long’s thy buds would gleam Above the softly-slidèn stream, While sparklèn zummer-brooks do run Below the lofty-climèn zun, I only wish that thou could’st staÿ Vor noo man’s harm, an’ all men’s jaÿ. But no, the waterman ’ull weäde Thy water wi’ his deadly bleäde, To slaÿ thee even in thy bloom, Fair small-feäced flower o’ the Frome.

lilac-tree, a-spreadèn wide Thy purple blooth on ev’ry zide, As if the hollow sky did shed Its blue upon thy flow’ry head; Oh! whether I mid sheäre wi’ thee Thy open aïr, my bloomèn tree, Or zee thy blossoms vrom the gloom, ’Ithin my zunless workèn-room, My heart do leäp, but leäp wi’ sighs, At zight o’ thee avore my eyes, For when thy grey-blue head do swaÿ In cloudless light, ’tis Spring, ’tis Maÿ.

’Tis Spring, ’tis Maÿ, as Maÿ woonce shed His glowèn light above thy head— When thy green boughs, wi’ bloomy tips, Did sheäde my childern’s laughèn lips; A-screenèn vrom the noonday gleäre Their rwosy cheäks an’ glossy heäir;