by William Barnes
The while I took my bit o' rest,
Below my house's eastern sheäde,
The things that stood in vield an' gleäde
Wer bright in zunsheen vrom the west.
There bright wer east-ward mound an' wall,
An' bright wer trees, arisèn tall,
An' bright did break 'ithin the brook,
Down rocks, the watervall.
There deep 'ithin my pworches bow
Did hang my heavy woaken door,
An' in beyond en, on the vloor,
The evenèn dusk did gather slow;
But bright did gleäre the twinklèn spwokes
O' runnèn carriage wheels, as vo'ks
Out east did ride along the road,
Bezide the low-bough'd woaks,
An' I'd a-lost the zun vrom view,
Until ageän his feäce mid rise,
A-sheenèn vrom the eastern skies
To brighten up the rwose-borne dew;
But still his lingrèn light did gi'e
My heart a touchèn jaÿ, to zee
His beams a-shed, wi' stratchèn sheäde,
On east-ward wall an' tree.
When jaÿ, a-zent me vrom above,
Vrom my sad heart is now agone,
An' others be a-walkèn on,
Amid the light ov Heavèn's love,
Oh! then vor lovèn-kindness seäke,
Mid I rejäice that zome do teäke
My hopes a-gone, until ageän
My happy dawn do breäk.
Last updated August 18, 2022