Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/438

422 An’ vound us woone among her stock O’ feäbles, o’ the girt Year-clock. His feäce wer blue’s the zumraer skies, An’ wide’s the zight o’ lookèn eyes, For hands, a zun wi’ glowèn feäce, An’ peäler moon wi’ swifter peäce, Did wheel by stars o’ twinklèn light, By bright-wall’d day, an’ dark-treed night; An’ down upon the high-sky’d land, A-reachèn wide, on either hand, Wer hill an’ dell wi’ win’-swaÿ’d trees, An’ lights a-zweepèn over seas, An’ gleamèn cliffs, an’ bright-wall’d tow’rs, Wi’ sheädes a-markèn on the hours; An’ as the feäce, a-rollèn round, Brought comely sheäpes along the ground, The Spring did come in winsome steäte Below a glowèn raïnbow geäte; An’ fan wi’ aïr a-blowèn weak, Her glossy heäir, an’ rwosy cheäk, As she did shed vrom oben hand, The leäpèn zeed on vurrow’d land; The while the rook, wi’ heästy flight, A-floatèn in the glowèn light, Did bear avore her glossy breast A stick to build her lofty nest, An’ strong-limb’d Tweil, wi’ steady hands, Did guide along the vallow lands The heavy zull, wi’ bright-sheär’d beam, Avore the weäry oxen team. Wi’ Spring a-gone there come behind Sweet Zummer, jaÿ ov ev’ry mind, Wi’ feäce a-beamèn to beguile Our weäry souls ov ev’ry tweil. While birds did warble in the dell In softest aïr o’ sweetest smell;