Уильям Барнс (William Barnes)

Third Collection. Went vrom Hwome

The stream-be-wander’d dell did spread
 Vrom height to woody height,
An’ meäds did lie, a grassy bed,
 Vor elem-sheädèn light.
The milkmaïd by her white-horn’d cow,
 Wi’ païl so white as snow,
Did zing below the elem bough
 A-swaÿèn to an’ fro.

An’ there the evenèn’s low-shot light
 Did smite the high tree-tops,
An’ rabbits vrom the grass, in fright,
 Did leäp ’ithin the copse.
An’ there the shepherd wi’ his crook,
 An’ dog bezide his knee,
Went whisslèn by, in aïr that shook
 The ivy on the tree.

An’ on the hill, ahead, wer bars
 A-showèn dark on high,
Avore, as eet, the evenèn stars
 Did twinkle in the sky,
An’ then the last sweet evenèn-tide
 That my long sheäde vell there,
I went down Brindon’s thymy zide,
 To my last sleep at Ware.

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