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Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect

by William Barnes. Third Collection

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ZUMMER STREAM.
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

ZUMMER STREAM.

Ah! then the grassy-meäded Maÿ
Did warm the passèn year, an' gleam
Upon the yollow-grounded stream,
That still by beech-tree sheädes do straÿ.
The light o' weäves, a-runnèn there,
Did plaÿ on leaves up over head,
An' vishes sceäly zides did gleäre,
A-dartèn on the shallow bed,
An' like the stream a-slidèn on,
My zun out-measur'd time's agone.
There by the path, in grass knee-high,
Wer buttervlies in giddy flight,
All white above the deäsies white,
Or blue below the deep blue sky.

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Then glowèn warm wer ev'ry brow,
O' maïd, or man, in zummer het,
An' warm did glow the cheäks I met
That time, noo mwore to meet em now.
As brooks, a-slidèn on their bed,
My season-measur'd time's a-vled.
Vrom yonder window, in the thatch,
Did sound the maïdens' merry words,
As I did stand, by zingèn birds,
Bezide the elem-sheäded hatch.
'Tis good to come back to the pleäce
Back to the time, to goo noo mwore;
'Tis good to meet the younger feäce
A-mentèn others here avore.
As streams do glide by green mead grass,
My zummer-brighten'd years do pass.