Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/A Lot o' Maïdens

by William Barnes

A LOT O’ MAÏDENS A-RUNNÈN THE VIELDS.^[1]

“Come on. Be sprack, a-laggèn back.”
“Oh! be there any cows to hook?”
“Lauk she’s afraïd, a silly maïd,”
 Cows? No, the cows be down by brook.
“O here then, oh! here is a lot.”
“A lot o’ what? what is it? what?”
“Why blackberries, as thick
 As ever they can stick.”
“I’ve dewberries, oh! twice
 As good as they; so nice.”
“Look here. Theäse boughs be all but blue
 Wi’ snags.”
 “Oh! gi’e me down a vew.”
“Come here, oh! do but look.”
“What’s that? what is it now?”
“Why nuts a-slippèn shell.”
“Hee ! hee ! pull down the bough.”
“I wish I had a crook.”
“There zome o’m be a-vell.”
 (One sings)
 “I wish I was on Bimport Hill
 I would zit down and cry my vill.”
“Hee! hee! there’s Jenny zomewhere nigh,
 A-zingèn that she’d like to cry.”
 (Jenny sings)
 “I would zit down and cry my vill
 Until my tears would dreve a mill.”
“Oh! here’s an ugly crawlèn thing,
 A sneäke.” “A slooworm; he wont sting.”
“Hee! hee! how she did squal an’ hop,
 A-spinnèn roun’ so quick’s a top.”
“Look here, oh! quick, be quick.”
“What is it? what then? where?”
“A rabbit.” “No, a heäre.”
“Ooh! ooh! the thorns do prick,”
“How he did scote along the ground
 As if he wer avore a hound.”
“Now mind the thistles.” “Hee, hee, hee,
 Why they be knapweeds.”
“No.” “They be.”
“I’ve zome’hat in my shoe.”
“Zit down, an’ sheäke it out.”
“Oh! emmets, oh! ooh, ooh,
 A-crawlèn all about.”
“What bird is that, O harken, hush.
 How sweetly he do zing.”
“A nightingeäle.” “La! no, a drush.”
“Oh! here’s a funny thing.”
“Oh! how the bull do hook,
 An’ bleäre, an’ fling the dirt.”
“Oh! wont he come athirt?”
“No, he’s beyond the brook.”
“O lauk! a hornet rose
 Up clwose avore my nose.”
“Oh! what wer that so white
Rush’d out o’ thik tree’s top?”
“An owl.” “How I did hop,
 How I do sheäke wi’ fright.”
“A musheroom.” “O lau!
 A twoadstool! Pwoison! Augh.”
“What’s that, a mouse?”
 “O no,
 Teäke ceäre, why ’tis a shrow.”
“Be sure dont let en come
 An’ run athirt your shoe
 He’ll meäke your voot so numb
 That you wont veel a tooe.”^[2]
“Oh! what wer that so loud
 A-rumblèn?” “Why a clap
 O’ thunder. Here’s a cloud
 O’ raïn. I veel a drap.”
“A thunderstorm. Do raïn.
 Run hwome wi’ might an’ main.”
“Hee! hee! oh! there’s a drop
 A-trïckled down my back. Hee! hee!”
“My head’s as wet’s a mop.”
“Oh! thunder,” “there’s a crack. Oh! Oh!”
“Oh! I’ve a-got the stitch, Oh!”
“Oh! I’ve a-lost my shoe, Oh!”
“There’s Fanny into ditch, Oh!”
“I’m wet all drough an’ drough. Oh!”

1. The idea, though but little of the substance, of this poem, will be found in a little Italian poem called Caccia, written by Franco Sacchetti.
2. The folklore is, that if a shrew-mouse run over a person’s foot, it will lame him.