Уильям Барнс (William Barnes)

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.

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