Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/77

Rh How gaÿ the paths be where we do strolly &emsp;Along the leäne an’ the hedge’s zide; &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;But nwone’s a voun’, O, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Up hill or down, O, &emsp;So gaÿ’s the road drough the meäd a-mow’d.

An’ when the visher do come, a-drowèn &emsp;His flutt’ren line over bleädy zedge, Drough groun’s wi’ red thissle-heads a-blowèn. &emsp;An’ watchèn o’t by the water’s edge; &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;Then he do love, O, &emsp;&emsp;&emsp;&emsp;The best to rove, O, &emsp;Along his road drough the meäd a-mow’d.

drevèn scud that overcast The zummer sky is all a-past, An’ softer aïr, a-blowèn drough The quiv’rèn boughs, do sheäke the vew Last raïn drops off the leaves lik’ dew; &emsp;An’ peäviers, now a-gettèn dry, &emsp;Do steam below the zunny sky &emsp;&emsp;That’s now so vast a-cleärèn.

The sheädes that wer a-lost below The stormy cloud, ageän do show Their mockèn sheäpes below the light; An’ house-walls be a-lookèn white, An’ vo’k do stir woonce mwore in zight, &emsp;An’ busy birds upon the wing &emsp;Do whiver roun’ the boughs an’ zing, &emsp;&emsp;To zee the sky a-clearèn.

Below the hill’s an ash; below The ash, white elder-flow’rs do blow: