Page:Barnes (1879) Poems of rural life in the Dorset dialect (combined).djvu/309

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A WIFE A-PRAÏS’D.
293

When I’d a-bound your vinger round
Wi’ thik goold ring that’s now so thin,
An’ you had nwone but me alwone
To teäke ye leäte or eärly in.
Come, Etty dear; come out o’ door,
An’ teäke a sweetheart’s walk woonce mwore.

But often when the western zide
O’ trees did glow at evenèn-tide,
Or when the leäter moon did light
The beeches’ eastern boughs at night,
An’ in the grove, where vo’k did rove
The crumpled leaves did vlee an’ spin,
You couldèn sheäre the pleasure there:
Your work or childern kept ye in.
Come, Etty dear, come out o’ door,
An’ teäke a sweetheart’s walk woonce mwore.

But ceäres that zunk your oval chin
Ageän your bosom’s lily skin,
Vor all they meäde our life so black.
Be now a-lost behind our back.
Zoo never mwope, in midst of hope,
To slight our blessèns would be sin.
Ha! ha! well done, now this is fun;
When you do like I’ll bring ye in.
Here, Etty dear; here, out o’ door,
We’ll teäke a sweetheart’s walk woonce mwore.

A WIFE A-PRAÏS’D.

’Twer Maÿ, but ev’ry leaf wer dry
All day below a sheenèn sky;
The zun did glow wi’ yollow gleäre,

An’ cowslips blow wi’ yollow gleäre,