 | Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect |  |
FANCY.
In stillness we ha' words to hear,
An' sheäpes to zee in darkest night,
An' tongues a-lost can haïl us near,
An' souls a-gone can smile in zight;
When Fancy now do wander back
To years a-spent, an' bring to mind
Zome happy tide a-left behind
In' weästen life's slow-beäten track.
An' sheäpes to zee in darkest night,
An' tongues a-lost can haïl us near,
An' souls a-gone can smile in zight;
When Fancy now do wander back
To years a-spent, an' bring to mind
Zome happy tide a-left behind
In' weästen life's slow-beäten track.
When feädèn leaves do drip wi' raïn,
Our thoughts can ramble in the dry;
When winter win' do zweep the plaïn
We still can have a zunny sky.
Vor though our limbs be winter-wrung,
We still can zee wi' Fancy's eyes
The brightest looks ov e'th an' skies
That we did know when we wer young
Our thoughts can ramble in the dry;
When winter win' do zweep the plaïn
We still can have a zunny sky.
Vor though our limbs be winter-wrung,
We still can zee wi' Fancy's eyes
The brightest looks ov e'th an' skies
That we did know when we wer young
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In païn our thoughts can pass to eäse,
In work our souls can be at plaÿ,
An' leäve behind the chilly leäse
Vor warm-aïr'd meäds o' new-mown haÿ.
When we do vlee in Fancy's flight
Vrom daily ills avore our feäce,
An' linger in zome happy pleäce
Ov mè'th an' smiles, an' warmth an' light.
In work our souls can be at plaÿ,
An' leäve behind the chilly leäse
Vor warm-aïr'd meäds o' new-mown haÿ.
When we do vlee in Fancy's flight
Vrom daily ills avore our feäce,
An' linger in zome happy pleäce
Ov mè'th an' smiles, an' warmth an' light.
| Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect | |