Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/272

256 The while their mother’s needle sped, Too quick vor zight, the snow-white thread, Unless her han’, wi’ lovèn ceäre, Did smooth their little heads o’ heäir;

Or wi’ a sheäke, tie up anew Vor zome wild voot, a slippèn shoe; An’ I did leän bezide thy mound Ageän the deäsy-dappled ground, The while the weaken clock did tick My hour o’ rest away too quick. An’ call me off to work anew, Wi’ slowly-ringèn strokes, woone, two.

Zoo let me zee noo darksome cloud Bedim to-day thy flow’ry sh’oud, But let en bloom on ev’ry spraÿ, Drough all the days o’ zunny Maÿ.

out at Penley I’d a-past A zummer day that went too vast, An’ when the zettèn zun did spread On western clouds a vi’ry red; The elems’ leafy limbs wer still Above the gravel-bedded rill, An’ under en did warble sh’ill, Avore the dusk, the blackbird.

An’ there, in sheädes o’ darksome yews, Did vlee the maïdens on their tooes, A-laughèn sh’ill wi’ merry feäce When we did vind their hidèn pleäce.