Уильям Барнс (William Barnes)

Third Collection. Slidèn

    When wind wer keen,
    Where ivy-green
    Did clwosely wind
    Roun’ woak-tree rind,
    An’ ice shone bright,
An’ meäds wer white, wi’ thin-spread snow
 Then on the pond, a-spreadèn wide,
 We bwoys did zweep along the slide,
A-strikèn on in merry row.

    There ruddy-feäced,
    In busy heäste,
    We all did wag
    A spankèn lag,
    To win good speed,
When we, straight-knee’d, wi’ foreright tooes,
 Should shoot along the slipp’ry track,
 Wi’ grindèn sound, a-gettèn slack,
The slower went our clumpèn shoes.

    Vor zome slow chap,
    Did teäke mishap,
    As he did veel
    His hinder heel
    A-het a thump,
Wi’ zome big lump, o’ voot an’ shoe.
 Down vell the voremost wi’ a squall,
 An’ down the next went wi’ a sprawl,
An’ down went all the laughèn crew.

    As to an’ fro,
    In merry row,
    We all went round
    On ice, on ground
    The maïdens nigh
A-stannèn shy, did zee us slide,
 An’ in their eäprons small, did vwold
 Their little hands, a-got red-cwold,
Or slide on ice o’ two veet wide.

    By leafless copse,
    An’ beäre tree-tops,
    An’ zun’s low beams,
    An’ ice-boun’ streams,
    An’ vrost-boun’ mill,
A-stannèn still. Come wind, blow on,
 An’ gi’e the bwoys, this Chris’mas tide,
 The glitt’rèn ice to meäke a slide,
As we had our slide, years agone.

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