Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect by William Barnes. Second Collection. Second Edition |
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THE SLANTEN LIGHT O' FALL. |
 | Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect |  |
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THE SLANTEN LIGHT O' FALL.
Ah! Jeäne, my maïd, I stood to you,
When you wer' christen'd, small an' light,
Wi' tiny eärms o' red an' blue,
A-hangèn in your robe o' white.
We brought ye to the hallow'd stwone,
Vor Christ to teäke ye vor his own,
When harvest work wer' all a-done,
An' time brought round October zun—
The slantèn light o' Fall.
When you wer' christen'd, small an' light,
Wi' tiny eärms o' red an' blue,
A-hangèn in your robe o' white.
We brought ye to the hallow'd stwone,
Vor Christ to teäke ye vor his own,
When harvest work wer' all a-done,
An' time brought round October zun—
The slantèn light o' Fall.
An' I can mind the wind wer' rough,
An' gather'd clouds, but brought noo storms,
An' you did nessle warm enough,
'Ithin your smilèn mother's eärms.
The whindlèn grass did quiver light,
Among the stubble, feäded white,
An' if at times the zunlight broke
Upon the ground, or on the vo'k,
'Twer' slantèn light o' Fall.
An' gather'd clouds, but brought noo storms,
An' you did nessle warm enough,
'Ithin your smilèn mother's eärms.
The whindlèn grass did quiver light,
Among the stubble, feäded white,
An' if at times the zunlight broke
Upon the ground, or on the vo'k,
'Twer' slantèn light o' Fall.
An' when we brought ye drough the door
O' Knapton Church, a child o' greäce,
There cluster'd round a'most a score
O' vo'k to zee your tiny feäce.
An' there we all did veel so proud,
To zee an op'nèn in the cloud,
An' then a stream o' light break drough,
A-sheenèn brightly down on you—
The slantèn light o' Fall.
O' Knapton Church, a child o' greäce,
There cluster'd round a'most a score
O' vo'k to zee your tiny feäce.
103
To zee an op'nèn in the cloud,
An' then a stream o' light break drough,
A-sheenèn brightly down on you—
The slantèn light o' Fall.
But now your time's a-come to stand
In church, a-blushèn at my zide,
The while a bridegroom vrom my hand
Ha' took ye vor his faïthvul bride.
Your christèn neäme we gi'd ye here,
When Fall did cool the weästèn year;
An' now, ageän, we brought ye drough
The doorway, wi' your surneäme new,
In slantèn light o' Fall.
In church, a-blushèn at my zide,
The while a bridegroom vrom my hand
Ha' took ye vor his faïthvul bride.
Your christèn neäme we gi'd ye here,
When Fall did cool the weästèn year;
An' now, ageän, we brought ye drough
The doorway, wi' your surneäme new,
In slantèn light o' Fall.
An' zoo vur, Jeäne, your life is feäir,
An' God ha' been your steädvast friend,
An' mid ye have mwore jaÿ than ceäre,
Vor ever, till your journey's end.
An' I've a-watch'd ye on wi' pride,
But now I soon mus' leäve your zide,
Vor you ha' still life's spring-tide zun,
But my life, Jeäne, is now a-run
To slantèn light o' Fall.
An' God ha' been your steädvast friend,
An' mid ye have mwore jaÿ than ceäre,
Vor ever, till your journey's end.
An' I've a-watch'd ye on wi' pride,
But now I soon mus' leäve your zide,
Vor you ha' still life's spring-tide zun,
But my life, Jeäne, is now a-run
To slantèn light o' Fall.
| Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect | |