WILLIAM BARNES
An' thcr cuombs be a-zet in ther bunches o' hiair, An' ther curdles da hang roun' thcr necks lily-white, An* ther cheaks tha be ruosy, ther shoulders be biare, Ther looks tha be merry, thcr lims tha be light.
An' the times have a-been but tha cant be noo muore When I, too, had my jay under evemen's dim sky, When my Fanny did stan' out wi' others avore Her door, var to chatty an' zee vo'kc goo by.
An" up there, in the green, is her own honey-zuck, That her brother train'd up roun' her winder; an' there Is the ruose an' the jessamy, where she did pluck A flow'r var her buzom ar bud var her hiair.
An' zoo smile, happy maidens' var every fiace, As the zummcrs da come an' the years da roll by, Wull soon sadden, ar goo vur awoy vrom the pliace, Ar else, hk' my Fanny, wull wither an' die.
But when you be a-lost vrom the parish, some muore Wull come on in y'ur pliazen to bloom an' to die; An' zoo zummcr wull always have maidens avore Thcr doors, var to chatty an' zee vo'ke goo by.
Var da'ters ha' marncn when mothers ha' night,
An' there 'b beauty alive when the fiairest is dead,
As when oon sparklen wiavc da zink down vrom the light,
Another da come up an' catch it instead.
Zoo smile on, happy maidens' but I shall noo muore Zee the maid I da miss under evcmen's dim sky; An' my heart is a-touch'd to zee you out avore The doors, var to chatty and zee vo'ke goo by. curdles] curls.
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