Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/438

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An’ vound us woone among her stock
O’ feäbles, o’ the girt Year-clock.
His feäce wer blue’s the zumraer skies,
An’ wide’s the zight o’ lookèn eyes,
For hands, a zun wi’ glowèn feäce,
An’ peäler moon wi’ swifter peäce,
Did wheel by stars o’ twinklèn light,
By bright-wall’d day, an’ dark-treed night;
An’ down upon the high-sky’d land,
A-reachèn wide, on either hand,
Wer hill an’ dell wi’ win’-swaÿ’d trees,
An’ lights a-zweepèn over seas,
An’ gleamèn cliffs, an’ bright-wall’d tow’rs,
Wi’ sheädes a-markèn on the hours;
An’ as the feäce, a-rollèn round,
Brought comely sheäpes along the ground,
The Spring did come in winsome steäte
Below a glowèn raïnbow geäte;
An’ fan wi’ aïr a-blowèn weak,
Her glossy heäir, an’ rwosy cheäk,
As she did shed vrom oben hand,
The leäpèn zeed on vurrow’d land;
The while the rook, wi’ heästy flight,
A-floatèn in the glowèn light,
Did bear avore her glossy breast
A stick to build her lofty nest,
An’ strong-limb’d Tweil, wi’ steady hands,
Did guide along the vallow lands
The heavy zull, wi’ bright-sheär’d beam,
Avore the weäry oxen team.
Wi’ Spring a-gone there come behind
Sweet Zummer, jaÿ ov ev’ry mind,
Wi’ feäce a-beamèn to beguile
Our weäry souls ov ev’ry tweil.
While birds did warble in the dell
In softest aïr o’ sweetest smell;