Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/425

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THE WIDOW’S HOUSE.
409

THE ZILVER-WEED.

The zilver-weed upon the green,
 Out where my sons an’ daughters plaÿ’d,
Had never time to bloom between
 The litty steps o’ bwoy an’ maïd.
But rwose-trees down along the wall,
 That then wer all the maïden’s ceäre,
An’ all a-trimm’d an’ traïn’d, did bear
 Their bloomèn buds vrom Spring to Fall.

But now the zilver leaves do show
 To zummer day their goolden crown,
Wi’ noo swift shoe-zoles’ litty blow,
 In merry plaÿ to beät em down.
An’ where vor years zome busy hand
 Did traïn the rwoses wide an’ high;
Now woone by woone the trees do die,
 An’ vew of all the row do stand.

THE WIDOW’S HOUSE.

I went hwome in the dead o’ the night,
 When the yields wer all empty o’ vo’k,
An’ the tuns at their cool-winded height
 Wer all dark, an’ all cwold ’ithout smoke;
An’ the heads o’ the trees that I pass’d
 Wer a-swaÿèn wi’ low-ruslèn sound,
An’ the doust wer a-whirl’d wi’ the blast,
 Aye, a smeech wi’ the wind on the ground.

Then I come by the young widow’s hatch,
 Down below the wold elem’s tall head,
But noo vinger did lift up the latch,

 Vor the vo’k wer so still as the dead;