Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/Bringèn Woone Gwaïn o' Zundays

by William Barnes

BRINGEN WOONE GWAÏN^[1] O’ ZUNDAYS.

Ah! John! how I do love to look
At theäse green hollor, an’ the brook
Among the withies that do hide
The stream, a-growèn at the zide;
An’ at the road athirt the wide
 An’ shallow vword, where we young bwoys
 Did peärt, when we did goo half-woys,
  To bring ye gwaïn o’ Zundays.

Vor after church, when we got hwome.
In evenèn you did always come
To spend a happy hour or two
Wi’ us, or we did goo to you;
An’ never let the comers goo
 Back hwome alwone, but always took
 A stroll down wi’ em to the brook
  To bring em gwain o’ Zundays.

How we did scote all down the groun’,
A-pushèn woone another down!
Or challengèn o’ zides in jumps
Down over bars, an’ vuzz, an’ humps;
An’ peärt at last wi’ slaps an’ thumps,
 An’ run back up the hill to zee
 Who’d get hwome soonest, you or we.
  That brought ye gwain o’ Zundays.

O’ leäter years, John, you’ve a-stood
My friend, an’ I’ve a-done you good;
But tidden, John, vor all that you
Be now, that I do like ye zoo,
But what you war vor years agoo:
 Zoo if you’d stir my heart-blood now.
 Tell how we used to plaÿ, an’ how
  You brought us gwaïn o’ Zundays.

1. “To bring woone gwaïn,”—to bring one going; to bring one on his way.