Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/388

372 That meäde me veel awhile to zwim In weäves o’ jaÿ to hear its hymn; Vor all the zinger, angel-bright, Wer then a-hidden vrom my zight, &emsp;&emsp;An’ I wer then too low To seek a meäte to match my steäte ’Ithin the lofty-pillar’d geäte, Wi’ stwonèn balls upon the walls: &emsp;&emsp;Oh, no! my heart, no, no.

Another time as I come by The house, below a dark-blue sky. The pillar’d geäte wer oben wide, An’ who should be a-show’d inside, But she, the comely maïd whose hymn Woonce meäde my giddy braïn to zwim, A-zittèn in the sheäde to zew, A-clad in robes as white as snow. &emsp;&emsp;What then? could I so low Look out a meäte ov higher steäte So gaÿ ’ithin a pillar’d geäte, Wi’ high walls round the smooth-mow’d ground? &emsp;&emsp;Oh, no! my heart, no, no.

Long years stole by, a-glidèn slow, Wi’ winter cwold an’ zummer glow, An’ she wer then a widow, clad In grey; but comely, though so sad; Her husband, heartless to his bride, Spent all her store an’ wealth, an’ died, Though she noo mwore could now rejaïce, Yet sweet did sound her zongless vaïce. &emsp;&emsp;But had she, in her woe, The higher steäte she had o’ leäte ’Ithin the lofty pillar’d geäte, Wi’ stwonèn balls upon the walls? &emsp;&emsp;Oh, no! my heart, no, no.