Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/420

404 An’ on the timber tall, &emsp;The boughs, half beäre, do bend above The bulgèn banks in Fall.

There, we’d a spring o’ water near, &emsp;Here, water’s deep in wink-draïn’d wells, The church ’tis true, is nigh out here, &emsp;Too nigh wi’ vive loud-boomèn bells. There, naïghbours wer vull wide a-spread, &emsp;But vo’k be here too clwose a-stow’d. Vor childern now do stun woone’s head, &emsp;Wi’ naïsy plaÿ bezide the road, Where big so well as small, &emsp;The little lad, an’ lump’rèn lout, Do leäp an’ laugh theäse Fall.

the ash-tree leaves do vall &emsp;In the wind a-blowèn cwolder, An’ my childern, tall or small, &emsp;Since last Fall be woone year wolder. Woone year wolder, woone year dearer, &emsp;Till when they do leave my he’th, I shall be noo mwore a hearer &emsp;O’ their vaïces or their me’th.

There dead ash leaves be a-toss’d &emsp;In the wind, a-blowèn stronger, An’ our life-time, since we lost &emsp;Souls we lov’d, is woone year longer. Woone year longer, woone year wider, &emsp;Vrom the friends that death ha’ took, As the hours do teäke the rider &emsp;Vrom the hand that last he shook.