Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/441

Rh That there do leän above the leane; Zoo teäke your pleäce bezide the dogs, An’ sip a drop o’ hwome-brew’d eäle, An’ zing your zong or tell your teäle, While I do baït the vier wi’ logs. No, no, you woout goo hwome to-night, Good Robin White, o’ Craglin mill.

Your meäre’s in steäble wi’ her hocks In straw above her vetterlocks, A-reachèn up her meäney neck, An’ pullèn down good haÿ vrom reck, A-meäkfen slight o’ snow an’ sleet; She don’t want you upon her back, To vall upon the slippery stwones On Hollyhill, an’ break your bwones, Or miss, in snow, her hidden track. No, no, you woont goo hwome to-night, Good Robin White, o’ Craglin mill.

Here, Jenny, come pull out your key An’ hansel, wi’ zome tidy tea, The zilver pot that we do owe To your prize butter at the show, An’ put zome bread upon the bwoard. Ah! he do smile; now that ’ull do, He’ll staÿ. Here, Polly, bring a light, We’ll have a happy hour to-night, I’m thankvul we be in the lew. No, no, he woont goo hwome to-night, Not Robin White, o’ Craglin mill.