Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/376

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POEMS OF RURAL LIFE.

There the copse-wood, a-grow’d to a height,
 Wer a-vell’d, an’ the primrwose in blooth,
Among chips on the ground a-turn’d white,
 Wer a-quiv’rfen, all beäre ov his lewth.
The green moss wer a-spread on the thatch,
 That I left yollow reed, an’ avore
The small green, there did swing a new hatch,
 Vor to let me walk into the door.
Oh! the rook did still rock o’er the rick,
 But wi’ Meäry a-married awaÿ.

PICKEN O’ SCROFF.

Oh! the wood wer a-vell’d in the copse,
 An’ the moss-bedded primrwose did blow;
An’ vrom tall-stemmèd trees’ leafless tops,
 There did lie but slight sheädes down below.
An’ the sky wer a-showèn, in drough
By the tree-stems, the deepest o’ blue,
Wi’ a light that did vall on an’ off
The dry ground, a-strew’d over wi’ scroff.

There the hedge that wer leätely so high,
 Wer a-plush’d, an’ along by the zide,
Where the waggon ’d a-haul’d the wood by,
 There did reach the deep wheelrouts, a-dried.
An’ the groun’ wi’ the sticks wer bespread,
Zome a-cut off alive, an’ zome dead.
An’ vor burnèn, well wo’th reäkèn off,
By the childern a-pickèn o’ scroff.

In the tree-studded leäze, where the woak
 Wer a-spreadèn his head out around,
There the scrags that the wind had a-broke,

 Wer a-lyèn about on the ground