Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/42

26 When evenèn’s risèn moon did peep Down drough the hollow dark an’ deep, Where gigglèn sweethearts meäde their vows In whispers under waggèn boughs; When whisslèn bwoys, an’ rott’lèn ploughs &emsp;Wer still, an’ mothers, wi’ their thin &emsp;Shrill vaïces, call’d their daughters in, &emsp;&emsp;From walkèn in the hollow;

What souls should come avore my zight, But they that had your zummer light? The litsome younger woones that smil’d Wi’ comely feäzen now a-spweil’d; Or wolder vo’k, so wise an’ mild, &emsp;That I do miss when I do goo &emsp;To zee the pleäce, an’ walk down drough &emsp;&emsp;The lwonesome woody hollow?

When wrongs an’ overbearèn words Do prick my bleedèn heart lik’ swords, Then I do try, vor Christes seäke, To think o’ you, sweet days! an’ meäke My soul as ’twer when you did weäke &emsp;My childhood’s eyes, an’ when, if spite &emsp;Or grief did come, did die at night &emsp;&emsp;In sleep ’ithin the hollow.

ax’d what ribbon she should wear ’Ithin her bonnet to the feäir? She had woone white, a-gi’ed her when She stood at Meäry’s chrissenèn; She had woone brown, she had woone red, A keepseäke vrom her brother dead,