Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/442

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woonce, at Chris’mas-tide, avore The wold year wer a-reckon’d out, The humstrums here did come about, A-soundèn up at ev’ry door. But now a bow do never screäpe &emsp;A humstrum, any where all round, An’ zome can’t tell a humstrum’s sheäpe, &emsp;An’ never heärd his jinglèn sound. As ing-an-ing did ring the string, As ang-an-ang the wires did clang.

The strings a-tighten’d lik’ to crack Athirt the canister’s tin zide, Did reach, a glitt’rèn, zide by zide, Above the humstrum’s hollow back. An’ there the bwoy, wi’ bended stick, &emsp;A-strung wi’ heäir, to meäke a bow, Did dreve his elbow, light’nèn quick, &emsp;Athirt the strings from high to low. As ing-an-ing did ring the string, As ang-an-ang the wires did clang.

The mother there did stan’ an’ hush Her child, to hear the jinglèn sound, The merry maïd, a-scrubbèn round Her white-steäv’d païl, did stop her brush. The mis’ess there, vor wold time’s seäke, &emsp;Had gifts to gi’e, and smiles to show, An’ meäster, too, did stan’ an’ sheäke &emsp;His two broad zides, a-chucklèn low, While ing-an-ing did ring the string, While ang-an-ang the wires did clang.