 | Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect |  |
THINGS DO COME ROUND.
Above the leafless hazzle wride
The wind-drove raïn did quickly vall,
An' on the meäple's ribby zide
Did hang the raïn-drops quiv'rèn ball;
Out where the brook o' foamy yollow
Roll'd along the meäd's deep hollow,
An' noo birds wer out to beät,
Wi' flappèn wings, the vleeèn wet
O' zunless clouds on flow'rless ground.
How time do bring the seasons round!
The wind-drove raïn did quickly vall,
An' on the meäple's ribby zide
Did hang the raïn-drops quiv'rèn ball;
Out where the brook o' foamy yollow
Roll'd along the meäd's deep hollow,
An' noo birds wer out to beät,
Wi' flappèn wings, the vleeèn wet
O' zunless clouds on flow'rless ground.
How time do bring the seasons round!
The moss, a-beät vrom trees, did lie
Upon the ground in ashen droves,
An' western wind did huffle high,
Above the sheds' quick-drippèn oves.
An' where the ruslèn straw did sound
So dry, a-shelter'd in the lew,
I staïed alwone, an' weather-bound,
An' thought on times, long years agoo.
Wi' wide-flown floods on flow'rless ground.
How time do bring the seasons round!
Upon the ground in ashen droves,
An' western wind did huffle high,
Above the sheds' quick-drippèn oves.
An' where the ruslèn straw did sound
So dry, a-shelter'd in the lew,
I staïed alwone, an' weather-bound,
An' thought on times, long years agoo.
Wi' wide-flown floods on flow'rless ground.
How time do bring the seasons round!
87
We then, in childhood plaÿ, did seem
In work o' men to teäke a peärt,
A-drevèn on our wild bwoy team,
Or lwoadèn o' the tiny cart.
Or, on our little refters, spread
The zedgen rwof above our head,
But coulden tell, as now we can,
Where I should goo to tweil a man.
O jaÿs a-lost, an' jaÿs a-vound,
How Providence do bring things round!
In work o' men to teäke a peärt,
A-drevèn on our wild bwoy team,
Or lwoadèn o' the tiny cart.
Or, on our little refters, spread
The zedgen rwof above our head,
But coulden tell, as now we can,
Where I should goo to tweil a man.
O jaÿs a-lost, an' jaÿs a-vound,
How Providence do bring things round!
Where woonce along the sky o' blue
The zun went roun' his longsome bow,
An' brighten'd, to my soul, the view
About our little farm below.
There I did plaÿ the merry geäme,
Wi' childern ev'ry holitide,
But coulden tell the vaïce or neäme
That time would vind to be my bride.
O hwome a-left, O wife a-vound,
How Providence do bring things round!
The zun went roun' his longsome bow,
An' brighten'd, to my soul, the view
About our little farm below.
There I did plaÿ the merry geäme,
Wi' childern ev'ry holitide,
But coulden tell the vaïce or neäme
That time would vind to be my bride.
O hwome a-left, O wife a-vound,
How Providence do bring things round!
An' when I took my manhood's pleäce,
A husband to a wife's true vow,
I never thought by neäme or feäce
O' childern that be round me now.
An' now they all do grow vrom small,
Droo life's feäir sheäpes to big an' tall,
I still be blind to God's good plan,
To pleäce em out, as wife or man.
O thread o' love by God unwound,
How He in time do bring things round!
A husband to a wife's true vow,
I never thought by neäme or feäce
O' childern that be round me now.
An' now they all do grow vrom small,
Droo life's feäir sheäpes to big an' tall,
I still be blind to God's good plan,
To pleäce em out, as wife or man.
O thread o' love by God unwound,
How He in time do bring things round!
| Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect | |