Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/63

Rh An’ then she twold me to bewar O’ what the letter M stood vor. An’ as I walk’d, o’ Monday night, Drough Meäd wi’ Dicky overright The Mill, the Miller, at the stile, &emsp;Did stan’ an’ watch us teäke our stroll, &emsp;An’ then, a blabbèn dousty-poll! Twold Mother o’t. Well wo’th his while!

An’ Poll too wer a-bid bewar O’ what the letter F stood vor; An’ then, because she took, at Feäir, A bosom-pin o’ Jimmy Heäre, Young Franky beät en black an’ blue. &emsp;’Tis F vor Feäir; an’ ’twer about &emsp;A Fearèn Frank an’ Jimmy foüght, Zoo I do think she twold us true.

In short, she twold us all about What had a-vell, or would vall out; An’ whether we should spend our lives As maïdens, or as wedded wives; But when we went to bundle on, &emsp;The gipsies’ dog were at the raïls &emsp;A-lappèn milk vrom ouer païls,— A pretty deäl o’ Poll’s wer gone.

last Jeäne come down stairs, a-drest Wi’ weddèn knots upon her breast, A-blushèn, while a tear did lie Upon her burnèn cheäk half dry; An’ then her Robert, drawèn nigh Wi’ tothers, took her han’ wi’ pride, To meäke her at the church his bride, &emsp;Her weddèn day in mornèn.