Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/320

304 An’ oh! mid He that’s vur above The highest here, reward their love, &emsp;An’ gi’e their happy souls, drough greäce, &emsp;A higher pleäce than Herrenston.

cool avore the sheenèn sky Do vail the sheädes below the copse, The timber-trees, a-reachèn high, Ha’ zunsheen on their lofty tops, Where yonder land’s a-lyèn plow’d, An’ red, below the snow-white cloud, An’ vlocks o’ pitchèn rooks do vwold Their wings to walk upon the mwold, &emsp;&emsp;While floods be low, &emsp;&emsp;An’ buds do grow. &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;An’ aïr do blow, a-broad, O.

But though the aïr is cwold below The creakèn copses’ darksome screen, The truest sheäde do only show How strong the warmer zun do sheen; An’ even times o’ grief an’ païn, Ha’ good a-comèn in their traïn, An’ ’tis but happiness do mark The sheädes o’ sorrow out so dark. &emsp;&emsp;As tweils be sad, &emsp;&emsp;Or smiles be glad, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Or times be bad, at hwome, O.

An’ there the zunny land do lie Below the hangèn, in the lew, Wi’ vurrows now a-crumblèn dry, Below the plowman’s dousty shoe;