The Dialect of the West of England; Particularly Somersetshire Part 28

Za. _adv._ So.

Za. _v._ Say.

Zat. _adj._ Soft.

Za'tenfare. _adj._ Softish: applied to the intellect_s._

To Zam. _v. a._ To heat for some time over the fire, but not to boil.

Zam'zod, Zam'zodden. _adj._ Any thing heated for a long time time in a low heat so as to be in part spoiled, is said to be zamzodden.

Conjecture, in etymology, may be always busy. It is not improbable that this word is a compound of _semi_, Latin, half; and to _seethe_, to boil: so that Zamzodden will then mean, literally, _half-boiled_.

Zand. _s._ Sand.

Zandy. _adj._ Sandy.

Zand-tot. _s._ A sand-hill.

To Zee. _v. a. pret._ and _part. Zid, Zeed._ To see.

Zeead. _s._ Seed. Zeead-lip. _See_ SEED-LIP.

Zel. _p.r.o.n._ Self.

Zen'vy. _s._ Wild mustard.

The true etymology will be seen at once in _seneve_, French, from _sinapi_, Latin, contracted and corrupted into _Zenvy_, Somersetian.

Zil'ker. _See_ SILKER.

Zim, Zim'd. _v._ Seem, seemed.

Zitch. _adj._ Such.

Zooap. _s._ Soap.

Zog. _s._ Soft, boggy land; moist land.

Zog'gy. _adj._ Boggy; wet.

Zoon'er. _adv._ Rather.

To Zound, To Zoun'dy. _v. n._ To swoon.

To Zuf'fy. _v. n._ See TO SUFFY.

Zug'gers! _'_ This is a word, like others of the same cla.s.s, the precise meaning of which it is not easy to define. I dare say it is a composition of two, or more words, greatly corrupted in p.r.o.nunciation.

Zull. _s._ The instrument used for ploughing land; a plough.

Zum. _p.r.o.n._ Some.

Zum'met. _p.r.o.n._ Somewhat; something.

Zunz. _adv._ Since.

To Zwail. _v. n._ To move about with the arms extended, and up and down.

To Zw.a.n.g. _v. n._ and _v. n._ To swing; to move to and fro.

Zw.a.n.g. _s._ A swing.

To Zwell. _v. a._ To swell; to swallow. See TO SWELL.

Zwird. _s._ Sword.

Zwod'der. _s._ A drowsy and stupid state of body or mind.

Derived, most probably, from _sudor_, Latin, a sweat.

POEMS AND OTHER PIECES EXEMPLIFYING THE DIALECT OF THE

County of Somersetshire.

Notwithstanding the Author has endeavoured, in the Observations on the Dialects of the West, and in The Glossary, to obviate the difficulties under which strangers to the dialect of Somersetshire may, very possibly, labour in the perusal of the following Poems, it may be, perhaps, useful here to remind the reader, that many mere inversions of sound, and differences in p.r.o.nunciation, are not noted in the Glossary. That it did not appear necessary to explain such words as_ wine, _wind;_ za, _say;_ qut, _coat;_ bwile, _boil_; hoss, _horse;_ hirches, _riches; and many others, which it is presumed the_ context, _the_ Observations, _or the_ Glossary, _will sufficiently explain. The Author, therefore, trusts, that by a careful attention to these, the reader will soon become_ au fait _at the interpretation of these West-country_ LIDDENS.

GOOD BWYE TA THEE COT!

Good bwye ta thee Cot! whaur tha das o' my childhood Glaw'd bright as tha zun in a mornin o' ma; When tha dumbledores hummin, craup out o' tha cobwall, An' shakin ther whings, tha vleed vooath an' awa.

[Footnote: The humble-bee, _bombilius major_, or _dumbledore_, makes holes very commonly in mud walls, in which it deposits a kind of farina: in this bee will be found, on dissection, a considerable portion of honey, although it never deposits any.]

Good bwye ta the Cot!--on thy drashel, a-ma-be, I niver naw moor sholl my voot again zet; Tha jessamy awver thy porch zweetly bloomin, Whauriver I goo, I sholl niver vorget.

Tha rawzes, tha lillies, that blaw in tha borders-- The gilawfers, too, that I us'd ta behawld-- Tha trees, wi' tha honeyzucks ranglin all awver, I always sholl think o' nif I shood be awld.

Tha tutties that oten I pick'd on a zunday, And stickt in my qut--tha war thawted za fine: Aw how sholl I tell o'm--vor all pirty maidens When I pa.s.s'd 'em look'd back--ther smill rawze on tha wine.

Good bwye ta thee Ash! which my Father beforne me, A planted, wi' pleasure, tha da I was born; Za, oolt thou drap a tear when I cease to behawld thee, An wander awa droo tha wordle vorlorn.

Good bwye ta thee Tree! an thy cawld shade in zummer; Thy apples, aw who ool be lotted ta shake?

When tha wine, mangst thy boughs sifes at Milemas in sorrow, Za oolt thou sife for me, or one wild wish awake?