THE GUIDE POST.
Why thik wold post so long kept out,
Upon the knap, his eärms astrout,
A-zendèn on the weary veet
By where the dree cross roads do meet;
An’ I’ve a-come so much thik woy,
Wi’ happy heart, a man or bwoy,
That I’d a-meäde, at last, a’móst
A friend o’ thik wold guidèn post.
An’ there, wi’ woone white eärm he show’d,
Down over bridge, the Leyton road;
Wi’ woone, the leäne a-leädèn roun’
By Bradlinch Hill, an’ on to town;
An’ wi’ the last, the way to turn
Drough common down to Rushiburn,—
The road I lik’d to goo the mwost
Ov all upon the guidèn post.
The Leyton road ha’ lofty ranks
Ov elem trees upon his banks;
The woone athirt the hill do show
Us miles o’ hedgy meäds below;
An’ he to Rushiburn is wide
Wi’ strips o’ green along his zide,
An’ ouer brown-ruf’d house a-móst
In zight o’ thik wold guidèn post.
An’ when the haÿ-meäkers did zwarm
O’ zummer evenèns out vrom farm,
The merry maïdens an’ the chaps,
