Читать книгу Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect - Barnes William - Страница 29

Now the light o' the west is a-turn'd to gloom,

An' the men be at hwome vrom ground;

An' the bells be a-zendèn all down the Coombe

From tower, their mwoansome sound.

An' the wind is still,

An' the house-dogs do bark,

An' the rooks be a-vled to the elems high an' dark,

An' the water do roar at mill.

An' the flickerèn light drough the window-peäne

Vrom the candle's dull fleäme do shoot,

An' young Jemmy the smith is a-gone down leäne,

A-plaÿèn his shrill-vaïced flute.

An' the miller's man

Do zit down at his ease

On the seat that is under the cluster o' trees.

Wi' his pipe an' his cider can.