Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/287

Rh We then mid yearn to clim’ the height, &emsp;Where thorns be white, above the vern; An’ aïr do turn the zunsheen’s might &emsp;To softer light too weak to burn— &emsp;&emsp;On woodless downs we mid be free, &emsp;&emsp;But lowland trees be company.

Though downs mid show a wider view O’ green a-reachèn into blue Than roads a-windèn in the glen, An’ ringèn wi’ the sounds o’ men; The thissle’s crown o’ red an’ blue &emsp;In Fall’s cwold dew do wither brown, An’ larks come down ’ithin the lew. &emsp;As storms do brew, an’ skies do frown— &emsp;&emsp;An’ though the down do let us free, &emsp;&emsp;The lowland trees be company.

Where birds do zing, below the zun, In trees above the blue-smok’d tun, An’ sheädes o’ stems do overstratch The mossy path ’ithin the hatch; If leaves be bright up over head, &emsp;When Maÿ do shed its glitt’rèn light; Or, in the blight o’ Fall, do spread &emsp;A yollow bed avore our zight— &emsp;&emsp;Whatever season it mid be, &emsp;&emsp;The trees be always company.

When dusky night do nearly hide The path along the hedge’s zide, An’ dailight’s hwomely sounds be still But sounds o’ water at the mill; Then if noo feäce we long’d to greet &emsp;Could come to meet our lwonesome treäce Or if noo peäce o’ weary veet,