Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/411

Rh But He that meäde the wind, an’ meäde The lewth, an’ zent wi’ het the sheäde, Can keep my childern, all alwone O’ under me, an’ though vull grown Or little lispers, wi’ their whispers, &emsp;&emsp;There a-lyèn in the lew.

lovely Jenny past, &emsp;While the blast did blow On over Ashknowle Hill &emsp;To the mill below; A-blinkèn quick, wi’ lashes long, &emsp;Above her cheäks o’ red, Ageän the wind, a-beätèn strong, &emsp;Upon her droopèn head.

Oh! let dry win’ blow bleäk, &emsp;On her cheäk so heäle, But let noo raïn-shot chill &emsp;Meäke her ill an’ peäle; Vor healthy is the breath the blast &emsp;Upon the hill do yield, An’ healthy is the light a cast &emsp;Vrom lofty sky to vield.

An’ mid noo sorrow-pang &emsp;Ever hang a tear Upon the dark lash-heäir &emsp;Ov my feäirest dear; An’ mid noo unkind deed o’ mine &emsp;Spweil what my love mid gaïn, Nor meäke my merry Jenny pine &emsp;At last wi’ dim-ey’d païn.