Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/51

Rh But when you be a-lost vrom the parish, zome mwore Will come on in your pleäzen to bloom an’ to die; An’ the zummer will always have maïdens avore Their doors, vor to chatty an’ zee vo’k goo by.

Vor daughters ha’ mornèn when mothers ha’ night, An’ there’s beauty alive when the feäirest is dead; As when woone sparklèn weäve do zink down vrom the light, Another do come up an’ catch it instead.

Zoo smile on, happy maïdens! but I shall noo mwore Zee the maïd I do miss under evenèn’s dim sky; An’ my heart is a-touch’d to zee you out avore The doors, vor to chatty an’ zee vo’k goo by.

! I be shepherd o’ the farm, &emsp;Wi’ tinklèn bells an’ sheep-dog’s bark, An’ wi’ my crook a-thirt my eärm, &emsp;Here I do rove below the lark.

An’ I do bide all day among &emsp;The bleäten sheep, an’ pitch their vwold; An’ when the evenèn sheädes be long. &emsp;Do zee em all a-penn’d an’ twold.

An’ I do zee the friskèn lam’s, &emsp;Wi’ swingèn taïls an’ woolly lags, A-playèn roun’ their veedèn dams, &emsp;An’ pullèn o’ their milky bags.

An’ I bezide a hawthorn tree, &emsp;Do’ zit upon the zunny down. While sheädes o’ zummer clouds do vlee &emsp;Wi’ silent flight along the groun’.