Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/340

324 An’ spent in meat an’ drink, to meäke &emsp;A supper vor the night, min.

Zoo when they took away the cloth, &emsp;In middle of their din, min, An’ cups o’ eäle begun to froth, &emsp;Below their merry chin, min. An’ when the zong, by turn or chaïce, &emsp;Went roun’ vrom tongue to tongue, min, Then Gammon pitch’d his merry vaïce, &emsp;An’ here’s the zong he zung, min.

If you’ll but let your clackers rest &emsp;Vrom jabberèn an’ hootèn, I’ll teäke my turn, an’ do my best, &emsp;To zing o’ sparrow shootèn. Since every woone mus’ pitch his key, &emsp;An’ zing a zong, in coo’se, lads, Why sparrow heads shall be to-day &emsp;The heads o’ my discoo’se, lads.

We’ll zend abroad our viery haïl &emsp;Till ev’ry foe’s a-vled, lads, An’ though the rogues mid all turn taïl, &emsp;We’ll quickly show their head, lads. In corn, or out on oben ground, &emsp;In bush, or up in tree, lads, If we don’t kill em, I’ll be bound, &emsp;We’ll meäke their veathers vlee, lads.

Zoo let the belted spwortsmen brag &emsp;When they’ve a-won a neäme, so’s, That they do vind, or they do bag, &emsp;Zoo many head o’ geäme, so’s: