Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/318

302 Vor theäse ben’t gifts, as He do know, That He in love should vu’st bestow; Or else we should have had our sheäre O’m all wi’ little tweil or ceäre.

“Ov all His choicest gifts, His cry Is, ‘Come, ye moneyless, and buy.’ Zoo blest is he that can but lift His praÿer vor a happy gift.”

then the leädy an’ the squier, &emsp;At Chris’mas, gather’d girt an’ small, Vor me’th, avore their roarèn vier, &emsp;An’ roun’ their bwoard, ’ithin the hall; An’ there, in glitt’rèn rows, between The roun’-rimm’d pleätes, our knives did sheen, &emsp;Wi’ frothy eäle, an’ cup an’ can, &emsp;Vor maïd an’ man, at Herrenston.

An’ there the jeints o’ beef did stand, &emsp;Lik’ cliffs o’ rock, in goodly row; Where woone mid quarry till his hand &emsp;Did tire, an’ meäke but little show; An’ after we’d a-took our seat, An’ greäce had been a-zaid vor meat, &emsp;We zet to work, an’ zoo begun &emsp;Our feäst an’ fun at Herrenston.

An’ mothers there, bezide the bwoards, &emsp;Wi’ little childern in their laps, Did stoop, wi’ lovèn looks an’ words, &emsp;An’ veed em up wi’ bits an’ draps;