by William Barnes
The zun, O Jessie, while his feäce do rise
In vi'ry skies, a-sheddèn out his light
On yollow corn a-weävèn down below
His yollow glow, is gaÿ avore the zight.
By two an' two,
How goodly things do goo,
A-matchèn woone another to fulvill
The goodness ov their Meäkèr's will.
How bright the spreadèn water in the lew
Do catch the blue, a-sheenèn vrom the sky;
How true the grass do teäke the dewy bead
That it do need, while dousty roads be dry.
By peäir an' peäir
Each thing's a-meäde to sheäre
The good another can bestow,
In wisdom's work down here below.
The lowest lim's o' trees do seldom grow
A-spread too low to gi'e the cows a sheäde;
The aïr's to bear the bird, the bird's to rise;
Vor light the eyes, vor eyes the light's a-meäde.
'Tis gi'e an' teäke,
An' woone vor others' seäke;
In peäirs a-workèn out their ends,
Though men be foes that should be friends.
Last updated August 18, 2022