Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/298

282 Then though the birds do still the glee That sounded in the zummer tree, My heart is light the winter drough, In me’th at night, wi’—I know who.

the timber’s bendèn sh’ouds, &emsp;The western wind did softly blow; An’ up avore the knap, the clouds &emsp;Did ride as white as driven snow. Vrom west to east the clouds did zwim Wi’ wind that plied the elem’s lim’; Vrom west to east the stream did glide, A-sheenèn wide, wi’ windèn brim.

How feäir, I thought, avore the sky &emsp;The slowly-zwimmfen clouds do look; How soft the win’s a-streamèn by; &emsp;How bright do roll the weävy brook: When there, a-passèn on my right, A-walkèn slow, an’ treadèn light, Young Jessie Lee come by, an’ there Took all my ceäre, an’ all my zight.

Vor lovely wer the looks her feäce &emsp;Held up avore the western sky: An’ comely wer the steps her peäce &emsp;Did meäke a-walkèn slowly by: But I went east, wi’ beätèn breast, Wi’ wind, an’ cloud, an’ brook, vor rest, Wi’ rest a-lost, vor Jessie gone So lovely on, toward the west.