Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect. Barnes William
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Название: Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect

Автор: Barnes William

Издательство: Bookwire

Жанр: Языкознание

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isbn: 4057664584052

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СКАЧАТЬ o' thik brown ruf,

      I rambled roun' wi' narrow looks,

      In fusty holes an' darksome nooks,

      To gather all I still mid vind,

      O' rags or sticks a-left behind.

      An' there the unlatch'd doors did creak,

      A-swung by winds, a-streamèn weak

      Drough empty rooms, an' meäkèn sad

      My heart, where me'th woonce meäde me glad.

      Vor when a man do leäve the he'th

      An' ruf where vu'st he drew his breath,

      Or where he had his bwoyhood's fun,

      An' things wer woonce a-zaid an' done

      That took his mind, do touch his heart

      A little bit, I'll answer vor't.

      Zoo riddèn house is such a caddle,

      That I would rather keep my staddle.

      EASTER ZUNDAY.

      Last Easter Jim put on his blue

      Frock cwoat, the vu'st time—vier new;

      Wi' yollow buttons all o' brass,

      That glitter'd in the zun lik' glass;

      An' pok'd 'ithin the button-hole

      A tutty he'd a-begg'd or stole.

      A span-new wes'co't, too, he wore,

      Wi' yollow stripes all down avore;

      An' tied his breeches' lags below

      The knee, wi' ribbon in a bow;

      An' drow'd his kitty-boots azide,

      An' put his laggèns on, an' tied

      His shoes wi' strings two vingers wide,

      Because 'twer Easter Zunday.

      An' after mornèn church wer out

      He come back hwome, an' stroll'd about

      All down the vields, an' drough the leäne,

      Wi' sister Kit an' cousin Jeäne,

      A-turnèn proudly to their view

      His yollow breast an' back o' blue.

      The lambs did plaÿ, the grounds wer green,

      The trees did bud, the zun did sheen;

      The lark did zing below the sky,

      An' roads wer all a-blown so dry,

      As if the zummer wer begun;

      An' he had sich a bit o' fun!

      He meäde the maïdens squeäl an' run,

      Because 'twer Easter Zunday.

      EASTER MONDAY.

      An' zoo o' Monday we got drough

      Our work betimes, an ax'd a vew

      Young vo'k vrom Stowe an' Coom, an' zome

      Vrom uncle's down at Grange, to come.

      An' they so spry, wi' merry smiles,

      Did beät the path an' leäp the stiles,

      Wi' two or dree young chaps bezide,

      To meet an' keep up Easter tide:

      Vor we'd a-zaid avore, we'd git

      Zome friends to come, an' have a bit

      O' fun wi' me, an' Jeäne, an' Kit,

      Because 'twer Easter Monday.

      An' there we plaÿ'd away at quaïts,

      An' weigh'd ourzelves wi' sceäles an' waïghts;

      An' jump'd to zee who jump'd the spryest,

      An' sprung the vurdest an' the highest;

      An' rung the bells vor vull an hour.

      An' plaÿ'd at vives ageän the tower.

      An' then we went an' had a taït,

      An' cousin Sammy, wi' his waïght,

      Broke off the bar, he wer so fat!

      An' toppled off, an' vell down flat

      Upon his head, an' squot his hat,

      Because 'twer Easter Monday.

      DOCK-LEAVES.

      The dock-leaves that do spread so wide

      Up yonder zunny bank's green zide,

      Do bring to mind what we did do

      At plaÿ wi' dock-leaves years agoo:

      How we—when nettles had a-stung

      Our little hands, when we wer young—

      Did rub em wi' a dock, an' zing

      "Out nettl', in dock. In dock, out sting."

      An' when your feäce, in zummer's het,

      Did sheen wi' tricklèn draps o' zweat,

      How you, a-zot bezide the bank,

      Didst toss your little head, an' pank,

      An' teäke a dock-leaf in your han',

      An' whisk en lik' a leädy's fan;

      While I did hunt, 'ithin your zight,

      Vor streaky cockle-shells to fight.

      In СКАЧАТЬ