Читать книгу Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect - Barnes William - Страница 21

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:

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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 all our plaÿ-geämes we did bruise

The dock-leaves wi' our nimble shoes;

Bwoth where we merry chaps did fling

You maïdens in the orcha'd swing,

An' by the zaw-pit's dousty bank,

Where we did taït upon a plank.

—(D'ye mind how woonce, you cou'den zit

The bwoard, an' vell off into pit?)

An' when we hunted you about

The grassy barken, in an' out

Among the ricks, your vlèe-èn frocks

An' nimble veet did strik' the docks.

An' zoo they docks, a-spread so wide

Up yonder zunny bank's green zide,

Do bring to mind what we did do,

Among the dock-leaves years agoo.