Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/281

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do zay that a travellèn chap &emsp;Have a-put in the newspeäper now, That the bit o’ green ground on the knap &emsp;Should be all a-took in vor the plough. He do fancy ’tis easy to show &emsp;That we can be but stunpolls at best, Vor to leave a green spot where a flower can grow, &emsp;Or a voot-weary walker mid rest. ’Tis hedge-grubbèn, Thomas, an’ ledge-grubbèn, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Never a-done While a sov’rèn mwore’s to be won.

The road, he do zay, is so wide &emsp;As ’tis wanted vor travellers’ wheels, As if all that did travel did ride &emsp;An’ did never get galls on their heels. He would leäve sich a thin strip o’ groun’, &emsp;That, if a man’s veet in his shoes Wer a-burnèn an’ zore, why he coulden zit down &emsp;But the wheels would run over his tooes. Vor ’tis meäke money, Thomas, an’ teäke money, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;What’s zwold an’ bought Is all that is worthy o’ thought.

Years agoo the leäne-zides did bear grass, &emsp;Vor to pull wi’ the geeses’ red bills, That did hiss at the vo’k that did pass, &emsp;Or the bwoys that pick’d up their white quills. But shortly, if vower or vive &emsp;Ov our goslèns do creep vrom the agg. They must mwope in the geärden, mwore dead than alive, &emsp;In a coop, or a-tied by the lag.