Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/99

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THE IVY.
83

Jim stopp’d an’ grabbled up a clot,
An’ zent en at en lik’ a shot;
An’ down went Daw an’ cage avore
The clot, up thump ageän the door.
Zoo out run Poll an’ Tom, to zee
What all the meänèn o’t mid be;
“Now who did that?” zaid Poll. “Who whurr’d
Theäse clot?” “Girt Soft-poll!” cried the bird.

An’ when Tom catch’d a glimpse o’ Jim,
A-lookèn all so red an’ slim.
An’ slinkèn on, he vled, red hot,
Down leäne to catch en, lik’ a shot;
But Jim, that thought he’d better trust
To lags than vistes, tried em vu’st.
An’ Poll, that zeed Tom woulden catch
En, stood a-smilèn at the hatch.
An’ zoo he vollow’d en for two
Or dree stwones’ drows, an’ let en goo.

THE IVY.

Upon theäse knap I’d sooner be
The ivy that do climb the tree,
Than bloom the gaÿest rwose a-tied
An’ trimm’d upon the house’s zide.
The rwose mid be the maïdens’ pride,
 But still the ivy’s wild an’ free;
 An’ what is all that life can gi’e,
  ’Ithout a free light heart, John?

The creepèn sheäde mid steal too soon
Upon the rwose in afternoon;
But here the zun do drow his het

Vrom when do rise till when do zet,