Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/312

296 Since I do miss your vaïce an’ feäce &emsp;In praÿer at eventide, I’ll praÿ wi’ woone said vaïce vor greäce &emsp;To goo where you do bide; Above the tree an’ bough, my love, &emsp;Where you be gone avore, An’ be a-waitèn vor me now, &emsp;To come vor evermwore.

Meäster Collins overtook Our knot o’ vo’k a-stannèn still, Last Zunday, up on Ivy Hill, To zee how strong the corn did look. An’ he staÿ’d back awhile an’ spoke A vew kind words to all the vo’k, Vor good or joke, an’ wi’ a smile Begun a-plaÿèn wi’ a chile.

The zull, wi’ iron zide awry, Had long a-vurrow’d up the vield; The heavy roller had a-wheel’d It smooth vor showers vrom the sky; The bird-bwoy’s cry, a-risèn sh’ill, An’ clacker, had a-left the hill, All bright but still, vor time alwone To speed the work that we’d a-done.

Down drough the wind, a-blowèn keen, Did gleäre the nearly cloudless sky, An’ corn in bleäde, up ancle-high, ’Ithin the geäte did quiver green; An’ in the geäte a-lock’d there stood A prickly row o’ thornèn wood