Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/Haÿ-Meäken

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1492447Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect — Haÿ-MeäkenWilliam Barnes

HAY-MEAKEN.

’Tis merry ov a zummer’s day,
Where vo’k be out a-meäkèn haÿ;
Where men an’ women, in a string,
Do ted or turn the grass, an’ zing,
Wi’ cheemèn vaïces, merry zongs,
A-tossèn o’ their sheenèn prongs
Wi’ eärms a-zwangèn left an’ right,
In colour’d gowns an’ shirtsleeves white;
Or, wider spread, a reakèn round
The rwosy hedges o’ the ground,
Where Sam do zee the speckled sneäke,
An’ try to kill en wi’ his reäke;
An’ Poll do jump about an’ squall,
To zee the twistèn slooworm crawl.

’Tis merry where a gaÿ-tongued lot
Ov haÿ-meäkers be all a-squot,
On lightly-russlèn haÿ, a-spread
Below an elem’s lofty head,
To rest their weary limbs an’ munch
Their bit o’ dinner, or their nunch;
Where teethy reäkes do lie all round
By picks a-stuck up into ground.
An’ wi’ their vittles in their laps,
An’ in their hornen cups their draps
O’ cider sweet, or frothy eäle,
Their tongues do run wi’ joke an’ teäle.

An’ when the zun, so low an’ red,
Do sheen above the leafy head
O’ zome broad tree, a-rizèn high
Avore the vi’ry western sky,
’Tis merry where all han’s do goo
Athirt the groun’, by two an’ two,
A-reäkèn, over humps an’ hollors,
The russlèn grass up into rollers.
An’ woone do row it into line,
An’ woone do clwose it up behine;
An’ after them the little bwoys
Do stride an’ fling their eärms all woys,
Wi’ busy picks, an’ proud young looks
A-meäkèn up their tiny pooks.
An’ zoo ’tis merry out among
The vo’k in haÿ-vield all day long.