Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/225

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page has been validated.
FATHERHOOD.
209

We be all lik’ a zull’s idle sheäre out,
An’ shall rust out, unless we do wear out,
 Lik’ do-nothèn, rue-nothèn,
    Dead alive dumps.

As vor me, why my life idden bound
 To my own heart alwone, among men;
 I do live in myzelf, an’ ageän
In the lives o’ my childern all round:
I do live wi’ my bwoy in his plaÿ,
 An’ ageän wi’ my maïd in her zongs;
An’ my heart is a-stirr’d wi’ their jaÿ,
 An’ would burn at the zight o’ their wrongs.
I ha’ nine lives, an’ zoo if a half
O’m do cry, why the rest o’m mid laugh
 All so plaÿvully, jaÿvully,
    Happy wi’ hope.

Tother night I come hwome a long road,
 When the weather did sting an’ did vreeze;
An’ the snow—vor the day had a-snow’d—
 Wer avroze on the boughs o’ the trees;
An’ my tooes an’ my vingers wer num’,
 An’ my veet wer so lumpy as logs,
An’ my ears wer so red’s a cock’s cwom’;
 An’ my nose wer so cwold as a dog’s;
But so soon’s I got hwome I vorgot
Where my limbs wer a-cwold or wer hot,
 When wi’ loud cries an’ proud cries
    They coll’d me so cwold.

Vor the vu’st that I happen’d to meet
 Come to pull my girtcwoat vrom my eärm,
 An’ another did rub my feäce warm,
An’ another hot-slipper’d my veet;
While their mother did cast on a stick,

 Vor to keep the red vier alive;

O