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First Collection. Fall. Night a-zettèn in When leäzers wi’ their laps o’ corn Noo longer be a-stoopèn, An’ in the stubble, all vorlorn, Noo poppies be a-droopèn; When theäse young harvest-moon do weäne, That now’ve his horns so thin, O, We’ll leäve off walkèn in the leäne, While night’s a zettèn in, O. When zummer doust is all a-laid Below our litty shoes, O; When all the raïn-chill’d flow’rs be dead, That now do drink the dews, O; When beauty’s neck, that’s now a-show’d, ’S a-muffled to the chin, O; We’ll leäve off walkèn in the road, When night’s a-zettèn in, O. But now, while barley by the road Do hang upon the bough, O, A-pull’d by branches off the lwoad A-ridèn hwome to mow, O; While spiders roun’ the flower-stalks Ha’ cobwebs yet to spin, O, We’ll cool ourzelves in out-door walks. When night’s a-zettèn in, O. While down at vword the brook so small, That leätely wer so high, O, Wi’ little tinklèn sounds do vall In roun’ the stwones half dry, O; While twilight ha’ sich aïr in store, To cool our zunburnt skin, O, We’ll have a ramble out o’ door, When night’s a-zettèn in, O. William Barnes's other poems:
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