Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/446

430 In tweilsome hardships, year by year, &emsp;He drough the worold wander’d wide, Still bent, in mind, both vur an’ near &emsp;To come an’ meäke his love his bride. An’ passèn here drough evenèn dew &emsp;He heästen’d, happy, to her door, But vound the wold vo’k only two, &emsp;Wi’ noo mwore vootsteps on the vloor, To walk ageän below the skies, Where beäten paths do vall an’ rise;

Vor she wer gone vrom e’thly eyes &emsp;To be a-kept in darksome sleep, Until the good ageän do rise &emsp;A-jaÿ to souls they left to weep. The rwose wer doust that bound her brow; &emsp;The moth did eat her Zunday ceäpe; Her frock wer out o’ fashion now; &emsp;Her shoes wer dried up out o’ sheäpe— The shoes that woonce did glitter black Along the leäzes beäten track.

all the roads that ever bridge &emsp;Did bear athirt a river’s feäce, Or ho’ses up an’ down the ridge &emsp;Did wear to doust at ev’ry peäce, I’ll teäke the Stalton leäne to tread, By banks wi’ primrwose-beds bespread, An’ steätely elems over head, &emsp;&emsp;Where Ruth do come a-ridèn.

An’ I would rise when vields be grey &emsp;Wi’ mornèn dew, avore ’tis dry, An’ beat the doust droughout the day &emsp;To bluest hills ov all the sky;