Уильям Барнс (William Barnes)

First Collection. Fall. A-Haulèn o’ the Corn

Ah! yesterday, you know, we carr’d
 The piece o’ corn in Zidelèn Plot,
An’ work’d about it pretty hard,
 An’ vound the weather pretty hot.
’Twer all a-tied an’ zet upright
In tidy hile o’ Monday night;
Zoo yesterday in afternoon
We zet, in eärnest, ev’ry woone
  A-haulèn o’ the corn.

The hosses, wi’ the het an’ lwoad,
 Did froth, an’ zwang vrom zide to zide,
A-gwaïn along the dousty road,
 An’ seem’d as if they would a-died.
An’ wi’ my collar all undone,
An’ neck a-burnèn wi’ the zun,
I got, wi’ work, an’ doust, an’ het,
So dry at last, I coulden spet,
   A-haulèn o’ the corn.

At uncle’s orcha’d, gwaïn along,
 I begged some apples, vor to quench
My drith, o’ Poll that wer among
 The trees: but she, a saucy wench,
Toss’d over hedge some crabs vor fun.
I squaïl’d her, though, an’ meäde her run;
An’ zoo she gie’d me, vor a treat,
A lot o’ stubberds vor to eat.
   A-haulèn o’ the corn.

An’ up at rick, Jeäne took the flagon,
 An’ gi’ed us out zome eäle; an’ then
I carr’d her out upon the waggon,
 Wi’ bread an’ cheese to gi’e the men.
An’ there, vor fun, we dress’d her head
Wi’ noddèn poppies bright an’ red,
As we wer catchèn vrom our laps,
Below a woak, our bits an’ draps,
   A-haulèn o’ the corn.

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