Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect by William Barnes. First Collection. Fourth Edition |
NANNY'S COW. |
Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect | ||
NANNY'S COW.
Ov all the cows, among the rest
Wer woone that Nanny lik'd the best;
An' after milkèn us'd to stand
A-veedèn o' her, vrom her hand,
An' in the evenèn she did come
The vu'st, a-biätèn up roun' hwome
Vor Ann to come an' milk her.
Wer woone that Nanny lik'd the best;
An' after milkèn us'd to stand
A-veedèn o' her, vrom her hand,
An' in the evenèn she did come
The vu'st, a-biätèn up roun' hwome
Vor Ann to come an' milk her.
Her back wer hollor as a bow,
Her lags wer short, her body low;
Her head wer small, her horns turn'd in
Avore her feäce so sharp's a pin:
Her eyes wer vull, her ears wer thin,
An' she wer red vrom head to taïl,
An' didden start nor kick the païl,
When Nanny zot to milk her.
Her lags wer short, her body low;
Her head wer small, her horns turn'd in
Avore her feäce so sharp's a pin:
Her eyes wer vull, her ears wer thin,
An' she wer red vrom head to taïl,
An' didden start nor kick the païl,
When Nanny zot to milk her.
But losses zoon began to vall
On Nanny's fàther, that wi' all
His tweil he voun', wi' breakèn heart
That he mus' leäve his ground, an' peärt
Wi' all his beäst an' hoss an' cart;
An', what did touch en mwost, to zell
The red cow Nanny lik'd so well,
An' lik'd vor her to milk her.
On Nanny's fàther, that wi' all
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That he mus' leäve his ground, an' peärt
Wi' all his beäst an' hoss an' cart;
An', what did touch en mwost, to zell
The red cow Nanny lik'd so well,
An' lik'd vor her to milk her.
Zalt tears did run vrom Nanny's eyes,
To hear her restless father's sighs.
But as vor me, she mid be sure
I wont vorzeäke her now she's poor,
Vor I do love her mwore an' mwore;
An' if I can but get a cow
An' parrock, I'll vulvil my vow,
An' she shall come an' milk her.
To hear her restless father's sighs.
But as vor me, she mid be sure
I wont vorzeäke her now she's poor,
Vor I do love her mwore an' mwore;
An' if I can but get a cow
An' parrock, I'll vulvil my vow,
An' she shall come an' milk her.
Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect | ||