Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/355

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WOONE SMILE MWORE.

O! Meäry, when the zun went down,
 Woone night in Spring, wi’ vi’ry rim,
Behind thik nap wi’ woody crown,
 An’ left your smilèn feäce so dim;
Your little sister there, inside,
 Wi’ bellows on her little knee,
Did blow the vier, a-glearèn wide
 Drough window-peänes, that I could zee,—
As you did stan’ wi’ me, avore
The house, a-peärten,—woone smile mwore.

The chatt’rèn birds, a-risèn high,
 An’ zinkèn low, did swiftly vlee
Vrom shrinkèn moss, a-growèn dry,
 Upon the leänèn apple tree.
An’ there the dog, a-whippèn wide
 His heäiry taïl, an’ comèn near,
Did fondly lay ageän your zide
 His coal-black nose an’ russet ear:
To win what I’d a-won avore,
Vrom your gaÿ feäce, his woone smile mwore.

An’ while your mother bustled sprack,
 A-gettèn supper out in hall,
An’ cast her sheäde, a-whiv’rèn black
 Avore the vier, upon the wall;
Your brother come, wi’ easy peäce,
 In drough the slammèn geäte, along