Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/The May-tree
THE MAY-TREE.
I’ve a-come by the Maÿ-tree all times o’ the year,
When leaves wer a-springèn,
When vrost wer a-stingèn,
When cool-winded mornèn did show the hills clear,
When night wer bedimmèn the vields vur an’ near.
When, in zummer, his head wer as white as a sheet,
Wi’ white buds a-zwellèn,
An’ blossom, sweet-smellèn,
While leaves wi’ green leaves on his bough-zides did meet,
A-sheädèn the deäisies down under our veet.
When the zun, in the Fall, wer a-wanderèn wan,
An’ haws on his head
Did sprinkle en red,
Or bright drops o’ rain wer a-hung loosely on,
To the tips o’ the sprigs when the scud wer a-gone.
An’ when, in the winter, the zun did goo low,
An’ keen win’ did huffle,
But never could ruffle
The hard vrozen feäce o’ the water below,
His limbs wer a-fringed wi’ the vrost or the snow.