Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect/The Lydlinch Bells
LYDLINCH BELLS.
When skies wer peäle wi’ twinklèn stars,
An’ whislèn aïr a-risèn keen;
An’ birds did leäve the icy bars
To vind, in woods, their mossy screen;
When vrozen grass, so white’s a sheet,
Did scrunchy sharp below our veet,
An’ water, that did sparkle red
At zunzet, wer a-vrozen dead;
The ringers then did spend an hour
A-ringèn changes up in tow’r;
Vor Lydlinch bells be good vor sound,
An’ liked by all the naïghbours round.
An’ while along the leafless boughs
O’ ruslèn hedges, win’s did pass,
An’ orts ov haÿ, a-left by cows,
Did russle on the vrozen grass,
An’ maïdens’ païls, wi’ all their work
A-done, did hang upon their vurk,
An’ they, avore the fleämèn brand,
Did teäke their needle-work in hand,
The men did cheer their heart an hour
A-ringèn changes up in tow’r;
Vor Lydlinch bells be good vor sound,
An’ liked by all the naïghbours round.
There sons did pull the bells that rung
Their mothers’ weddèn peals avore,
The while their fathers led em young
An’ blushèn vrom the churches door,
An’ still did cheem, wi’ happy sound,
As time did bring the Zundays round,
An’ call em to the holy pleäce
Vor heav’nly gifts o’ peace an’ greäce;
An’ vo’k did come, a-streamèn slow
Along below the trees in row,
While they, in merry peals, did sound
The bells vor all the naïghbours round.
An’ when the bells, wi’ changèn peal,
Did smite their own vo’ks window-peänes,
Their sof’en’d sound did often steal
Wi’ west winds drough the Bagber leänes;
Or, as the win’ did shift, mid goo
Where woody Stock do nessle lew,
Or where the risèn moon did light
The walls o‘ Thornhill on the height;
An’ zoo, whatever time mid bring
To meäke their vive clear vaïces zing,
Still Lydlinch bells wer good vor sound,
An’ liked by all the naïghbours round.