Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect. Barnes William. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Barnes William
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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lim' to lim',

      Till, strugglèn hard an' clingèn tight,

      They reach'd at last my feäce's height.

      All tryèn which could soonest hold

      My mind wi' little teäles they twold.

      [page 6]

      An' riddèn house is such a caddle,

      I shan't be over keen vor mwore ō't,

      Not yet a while, you mid be sure ō't—

      I'd rather keep to woone wold staddle.

      Well, zoo, avore the east begun

      To redden wi' the comèn zun,

      We left the beds our mossy thatch

      Wer never mwore to overstratch,

      An' borrow'd uncle's wold hoss Dragon,

      To bring the slowly lumbrèn waggon,

      An' when he come, we vell a-packèn

      The bedsteads, wi' their rwopes an' zackèn;

      An' then put up the wold eärm-chair,

      An' cwoffer vull ov e'then-ware,

      An' vier-dogs, an' copper kittle,

      Wi' crocks an' saucepans, big an' little;

      An' fryèn-pan, vor aggs to slide

      In butter round his hissèn zide,

      An' gridire's even bars, to bear

      The drippèn steäke above the gleäre

      O' brightly-glowèn coals. An' then,

      All up o' top o' them ageän

      The woaken bwoard, where we did eat

      Our croust o' bread or bit o' meat—

      An' when the bwoard wer up, we tied

      Upon the reäves, along the zide,

      The woäken stools, his glossy meätes,

      Bwoth when he's beäre, or when the pleätes

      Do clatter loud wi' knives, below

      Our merry feäces in a row.

      An' put between his lags, turn'd up'ard,

      The zalt-box an' the corner cupb'ard.

      An' then we laid the wold clock-ceäse,

      All dumb, athirt upon his feäce,

      Vor we'd a-left, I needen tell ye,

      [page 7]

      Noo works 'ithin his head or belly.

      An' then we put upon the pack

      The settle, flat upon his back;

      An' after that, a-tied in pairs

      In woone another, all the chairs,

      An' bits o' lumber wo'th a ride,

      An' at the very top a-tied,

      The childern's little stools did lie,

      Wi' lags a-turn'd towárd the sky:

      Zoo there we lwoaded up our scroff,

      An' tied it vast, an' started off.

      An'—as the waggon cooden car all

      We had to teäke—the butter-barrel

      An' cheese-wring, wi' his twinèn screw,

      An' all the païls an' veäts, an' blue

      Wold milk leads, and a vew things mwore,

      Wer all a-carr'd the day avore,

      And when the mwost ov our wold stuff

      Wer brought outside o' thik brown ruf,

      I rambled roun' wi' narrow looks,

      In fusty holes an' darksome nooks,

      To gather all I still mid vind,

      O' rags or sticks a-left behind.

      An' there the unlatch'd doors did creak,

      A-swung by winds, a-streamèn weak

      Drough empty rooms, an' meäkèn sad

      My heart, where me'th woonce meäde me glad.

      Vor when a man do leäve the he'th

      An' ruf where vu'st he drew his breath,

      Or where he had his bwoyhood's fun,

      An' things wer woonce a-zaid an' done

      That took his mind, do touch his heart

      A little bit, I'll answer vor't.

      Zoo riddèn house is such a caddle,

      That I would rather keep my staddle.

      EASTER ZUNDAY.

      Last Easter Jim put on his blue

      Frock cwoat, the vu'st time—vier new;

      Wi' yollow buttons all o' brass,

      That glitter'd in the zun lik' glass;

      An' pok'd 'ithin the button-hole

      A tutty he'd a-begg'd or stole.

      A span-new wes'co't, too, he wore,

      Wi' yollow stripes all down avore;

      An' tied his breeches' lags below

      The knee, wi' ribbon in a bow;

      An' drow'd his kitty-boots azide,

      An' put his laggèns on, an' tied

      His shoes wi' strings two vingers wide,

      Because 'twer Easter Zunday.

      An' after mornèn church wer out

      He come back hwome, an' stroll'd about

      All down the vields, an' drough the leäne,

      Wi' sister Kit an' cousin Jeäne,

      A-turnèn proudly to their view

      His yollow breast an' back o' blue.

      The lambs did plaÿ, the grounds wer green,

      The trees did bud, the zun did sheen;

      The lark did zing below the sky,

      An' roads wer all a-blown so dry,

      As if the zummer wer begun;

      An' he had sich a bit o' fun!

      He meäde the maïdens squeäl an' run,

      Because 'twer Easter Zunday.

      EASTER MONDAY.

      An' zoo o' Monday we got drough

      Our work betimes, an ax'd a vew

      Young vo'k vrom Stowe an' Coom, an' zome

      Vrom uncle's down at Grange, to come.

      An' they so spry, wi' merry smiles,

      Did beät the path an' leäp the stiles,

      Wi' two or dree young chaps bezide,

      To meet an' keep up Easter tide:

      Vor we'd a-zaid avore,