Poems Of Rural Life In The Dorset Dialect - novelonlinefull.com
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An' there, a-vell'd 'ithin the copse, Below the timber's new-leav'd tops, Wer ashen poles, a-casten straght, On primrwose beds, their langthy waght; Below the yollow light, a-shed Drough boughs upon the vi'let's head, By climen ivy, that did reach, A sheenen roun' the dead-leav'd beech.
An' there her father zot, an' meade His hwomely meal bezide a gleade; While she, a-croopen down to ground, Did pull the flowers, where she vound The droopen vi'let out in blooth, Or yollow primrwose in the lewth, That she mid car em proudly back, An' zet em on her mother's tack; Vor she wer bless'd wi' mwore than zwome-- A father out, an' mother hwome.
A father out, an' mother hwome, Be blessens soon a-lost by zome; A-lost by me, an' zoo I pray'd They mid be spear'd the little mad.
RIDDLES.
_Anne an' Joey a-ta'ken._
A. A plague! thease cow wont stand a bit, Noo sooner do she zee me zit Agean her, than she's in a trot, A-runnen to zome other spot.
J. Why 'tis the dog do sceare the cow, He worried her a-vield benow.
A. Goo in, Ah! _Liplap_, where's your tal!
J. He's off, then up athirt the ral.
Your cow there, Anne's a-come to hand A goodish milcher. A. If she'd stand, But then she'll steare an' start wi' fright To zee a dumbledore in flight.
Last week she het the pal a flought, An' flung my meal o' milk half out.
J. Ha! Ha! But Anny, here, what lout Broke half your small pal's bottom out?
A. What lout indeed! What, do ye own The neame? What dropp'd en on a stwone?
J. Hee! Hee! Well now he's out o' trim Wi' only half a bottom to en; Could you still vill en' to the brim An' yit not let the milk run drough en?
A. Aye, as for nonsense, Joe, your head Do hold it all so tight's a blather, But if 'tis any good, do shed It all so leaky as a lather.
Could you vill pals 'ithout a bottom, Yourself that be so deeply skill'd?
J. Well, ees, I could, if I'd a-got em Inside o' bigger woones a-vill'd.
A. La! that _is_ zome'hat vor to hatch!
Here answer me thease little catch.
Down under water an' o' top o't I went, an' didden touch a drop o't,
J. Not when at mowen time I took An' pull'd ye out o' Longmead brook, Where you'd a-slidder'd down the edge An' zunk knee-deep bezide the zedge, A-tryen to reake out a clote.
A. Aye I do hear your chucklen droat When I athirt the brudge did bring Zome water on my head vrom spring.
Then under water an' o' top o't, Wer I an' didden touch a drop o't.
J. O Lauk! What thik wold riddle still, Why that's as wold as Duncliffe Hill; "A two-lagg'd thing do run avore An' run behind a man, An' never run upon his lags Though on his lags do stan'."
What's that?
I don't think you do know.
There idden sich a thing to show.
Not know? Why yonder by the stall 'S a wheel-barrow bezide the wall, Don't he stand on his lags so trim, An' run on nothen but his wheels wold rim.
A. There's _horn_ vor Goodman's eye-zight seake; There's _horn_ vor Goodman's mouth to teake; There's _horn_ vor Goodman's ears, as well As _horn_ vor Goodman's nose to smell-- What _horns_ be they, then? Do your hat Hold wit enough to tell us that?
J. Oh! _horns_! but no, I'll tell ye what, My cow is hornless, an' she's _knot_.
A. _Horn_ vor the _mouth's_ a hornen cup.
J. An' eale's good stuff to vill en up.
A. An' _horn_ vor _eyes_ is horn vor light, Vrom Goodman's lantern after night; _Horn_ vor the _ears_ is woone to sound Vor hunters out wi' ho'se an' hound; But _horn_ that vo'k do buy to smell o'
Is _hart's-horn_. J. Is it? What d'ye tell o'
How proud we be, vor ben't we smart?
Aye, _horn_ is _horn_, an' hart is hart.
Well here then, Anne, while we be at it, 'S a ball vor you if you can bat it.
On dree-lags, two-lags, by the zide O' vower-lags, woonce did zit wi' pride, When vower-lags, that velt a p.r.i.c.k, Vrom zix-lags, het two lags a kick.
An' two an' dree-lags vell, all vive, Slap down, zome dead an' zome alive.
A. Teeh! heeh! what have ye now then, Joe, At last, to meake a riddle o'?
J. Your dree-lagg'd stool woone night did bear Up you a milken wi' a peair; An' there a zix-lagg'd stout did p.r.i.c.k Your vow'r-lagg'd cow, an meake her kick, A-hetten, wi' a pretty pat, Your stool an' you so flat's a mat.
You scrambled up a little dirty, But I do hope it didden hurt ye.
A. You hope, indeed! a likely cease, Wi' thik broad grin athirt your feace You saucy good-vor-nothen chap, I'll gi'e your grinnen feace a slap, Your drawlen tongue can only run To turn a body into fun.
J. Oh! I woont do 't agean. Oh dear!
Till next time, Anny. Oh my ear!
Oh! Anne, why you've a-het my hat 'Ithin the milk, now look at that.
A. Do sar ye right, then, I don't ceare.
I'll thump your noddle,--there--there--there.
DAY'S WORK A-DONE.
And oh! the ja our rest did yield, At evenen by the mossy wall, When we'd a-work'd all day a-vield, While zummer zuns did rise an' vall; As there a-letten Goo all fretten, An' vorgetten all our tweils, We zot among our childern's smiles.
An' under skies that glitter'd white, The while our smoke, arisen blue, Did melt in aier, out o' zight, Above the trees that kept us lew; Wer birds a-zingen, Tongues a-ringen, Childern springen, vull o' ja, A-finishen the day in pla.
An' back behind, a-stannen tall, The cliff did sheen to western light; An' while avore the water-vall, A-rottlen loud, an' foamen white.
The leaves did quiver, Gnots did whiver, By the river, where the pool, In evenen ar did glissen cool.
An' childern there, a-runnen wide, Did pla their geames along the grove, Vor though to us 'twer ja to bide At rest, to them 'twer ja to move.
The while my smilen Jeane, beguilen, All my tweilen, wi' her ceare, Did call me to my evenen feare.
LIGHT OR SHEaDE.