University of Virginia Library

Search this document 
Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect

by William Barnes. First Collection. Fourth Edition
 

collapse section
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
BEES A-ZWARMEN.
 
 
 
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
collapse section
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

BEES A-ZWARMEN.

Avore we went a-milkèn, vive
Or six o's here wer all alive
A-teäkèn bees that zwarmed vrom hive;
An' we'd sich work to catch
The hummèn rogues, they led us sich
A dance all over hedge an' ditch;
An' then at last where should they pitch,
But up in uncle's thatch?
Dick rung a sheep-bell in his han',
Liz beät a cannister, an' Nan

79

Did bang the little fryèn-pan
Wi' thick an' thumpèn blows;
An' Tom went on, a-carrèn roun'
A bee-pot upon his crown,
Wi' all his edge a-reachèn down
Avore his eyes an' nose.
An' woone girt bee, wi' spitevul hum,
Stung Dicky's lip, an' meäde it come
All up amost so big's a plum;
An' zome, a-vleèn on,
Got all round Liz, an' meäde her hop
An' scream, a-twirlèn lik' a top,
An' sprang away right backward, flop
Down into barken pon';
An' Nan' gi'ed Tom a roguish twitch
Upon a bank, an' meäde en pitch
Right down, head-voremost, into ditch,—
Tom coulden zee a wink.
An' when the zwarm wer seäfe an' sound
In mother's bit o' bee-pot ground,
She meäde us up a treat all round
O' sillibub to drink.