But oh! if men should come an' vell
The girt woak tree that's in the dell,
An' build his planks 'ithin the zide
O' zome girt ship to plough the tide,
Then, life or death! I'd goo to sea,
A saïlèn wi' the girt woak tree:
An' I upon his planks would stand,
An' die a-fightèn vor the land—
The land so dear—the land so free—
The land that bore the girt woak tree;
Vor I do love noo tree so well
'S the girt woak tree that's in the dell.
VELLEN O' THE TREE.
Aye, the girt elem tree out in little hwome groun'
Wer a-stannèn this mornèn, an' now's a-cut down.
Aye, the girt elem tree, so big roun' an' so high,
Where the mowers did goo to their drink, an' did lie
In the sheäde ov his head, when the zun at his heighth
Had a-drove em vrom mowèn, wi' het an' wi' drîth,
[page 17]
Where the haÿ-meäkers put all their picks an' their reäkes,
An' did squot down to snabble their cheese an' their ceäkes,
An' did vill vrom their flaggons their cups wi' their eäle,
An' did meäke theirzelves merry wi' joke an' wi' teäle.
Ees, we took up a rwope an' we tied en all round
At the top o'n, wi' woone end a-hangèn to ground,
An' we cut, near the ground, his girt stem a'most drough,
An' we bent the wold head o'n wi' woone tug or two;
An' he sway'd all his limbs, an' he nodded his head,
T
ill he vell away down like a pillar o' lead:
An' as we did run vrom en, there; clwose at our backs,
Oh! his boughs come to groun' wi' sich whizzes an' cracks;
An' his top wer so lofty that, now he is down,
The stem o'n do reach a-most over the groun'.
Zoo the girt elem tree out in little hwome groun'
Wer a-stannèn this mornèn, an' now's a-cut down.
BRINGEN WOONE GWAÏN* O' ZUNDAYS.
Ah! John! how I do love to look
At theäse green hollor, an' the brook
Among the withies that do hide
The stream, a-growèn at the zide;
An' at the road athirt the wide
An' shallow vword, where we young bwoys
Did peärt, when we did goo half-woys,
To bring ye gwaïn o' Zundays.
Vor after church, when we got hwome,
In evenèn you did always come
To spend a happy hour or two
Wi' us, or we did goo to you;
[page 18]
An' never let the comers goo
Back hwome alwone, but always took
A stroll down wi' em to the brook
To bring em gwaïn o' Zundays.
How we did scote all down the groun',
A-pushèn woone another down!
Or challengèn o' zides in jumps
Down over bars, an' vuzz, an' humps;
An' peärt at last wi' slaps an' thumps,
An' run back up the hill to zee
Who'd get hwome soonest, you or we.
That brought ye gwaïn o' Zundays.
O' leäter years, John, you've a-stood
My friend, an' I've a-done you good;
But tidden, John, vor all that you
Be now, that I do like ye zoo,
But what you wer vor years agoo:
Zoo if you'd stir my heart-blood now.
Tell how we used to play, an' how
You brought us gwaïn o' Zundays.
* "To bring woone gwaïn,"—to bring one going;
to bring one on his way.
EVENÈN TWILIGHT.
Ah! they vew zummers brought us round
The happiest days that we've a-vound,
When in the orcha'd, that did stratch
To westward out avore the patch
Ov high-bough'd wood, an' shelve to catch
The western zun-light, we did meet
Wi' merry tongues an' skippèn veet
At evenèn in the twilight.
The evenèn aïr did fan, in turn,
The cheäks the midday zun did burn.
[page 19]
An' zet the russlèn leaves at plaÿ,
An' meäke the red-stemm'd brembles sway
In bows below the snow-white maÿ;
An' whirlèn roun' the trees, did sheäke
Jeäne's raven curls about her neck,
They evenèns in the twilight.
An' there the yollow light did rest
Upon the bank towárd the west,
An' twitt'rèn birds did hop in drough
The hedge, an' many a skippèn shoe
Did beät the flowers, wet wi' dew,
As underneäth the tree's wide limb
Our merry sheäpes did jumpy, dim,
They evenèns in the twilight.
How sweet's the evenèn dusk to rove
Along wi' woone that we do love!
When light enough is in the sky
To sheäde the smile an' light the eye
'Tis all but heaven to be by;
An' bid, in whispers soft an' light
'S the ruslèn ov a leaf, "Good night,"