An icy cwoat so stiff as lead.
An’ there he wer so good as dead
Vor grindèn any corn vor bread.
Then Water cried to Vier, “Alack!
Look, here be I, so stiff’s a log,
Thik fellor Aïr do keep me back
Vrom grindèn. I can’t wag a cog.
If I, dear Vier, did ever souse
Your nimble body on a house,
When you wer on your merry pranks
Wi’ thatch or refters, beams or planks,
Vorgi’e me, do, in pity’s neäme,
Vor ’twerden I that wer to bleäme,
I never wagg’d, though I be’nt cringèn,
Till men did dreve me wi’ their engine.
Do zet me free vrom theäse cwold jacket,
Vor I myzelf shall never crack it.”
“Well come,” cried Vier, “My vo’k ha’ meäde
An engine that ’ull work your treäde.
If E’th is only in the mood,
While I do work, to gi’e me food,
I’ll help ye, an’ I’ll meäke your skill
A match vor Mister Aïr’s wold mill.”
“What food,” cried E’th, “ ’ull suit your bwoard?”
“Oh! trust me, I ben’t over nice,”
Cried Vier, “an’ I can eat a slice
Ov any thing you can avword.”
“I’ve lots,” cried E’th, “ov coal an’ wood.”
“Ah! that’s the stuff,” cried Vier, “that’s good.”
Zoo Vier at woonce to Water cried,
“Here, Water, here, you get inside
O’ theäse girt bwoiler. Then I’ll show
How I can help ye down below,
An’ when my work shall woonce begin
You’ll be a thousand times so strong,
Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/462
This page has been validated.
446
POEMS OF RURAL LIFE.
![](http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/thumb/d/de/Barnes_%281879%29_Poems_of_rural_life_in_the_Dorset_dialect_%28combined%29.djvu/page462-1024px-Barnes_%281879%29_Poems_of_rural_life_in_the_Dorset_dialect_%28combined%29.djvu.jpg)