Poem by William Barnes

First Collection. Fall. Jenny out vrom Hwome

O wild-reävèn west winds; as you do roar on,
 The elems do rock an’ the poplars do ply,
An’ weäve do dreve weäve in the dark-water’d pon’,—
 Oh! where do ye rise vrom, an’ where do ye die?

O wild-reävèn winds I do wish I could vlee
 Wi’ you, lik’ a bird o’ the clouds, up above
The ridge o’ the hill an’ the top o’ the tree,
 To where I do long vor, an’ vo’k I do love.

Or else that in under theäse rock I could hear,
 In the soft-zwellèn sounds you do leäve in your road,
Zome words you mid bring me, vrom tongues that be dear,
 Vrom friends that do love me, all scatter’d abrode.

O wild-reävèn winds! if you ever do roar
 By the house an’ the elems vrom where I’m a-come,
Breathe up at the window, or call at the door,
 An’ tell you’ve a-voun’ me a-thinkèn o’ hwome.

1. Third Collection. Comen Hwome
2. First Collection. Sundry Pieces. Aunt’s Tantrums
3. Third Collection. Treat well you Wife
4. Third Collection. The Neäme Letters
5. Third Collection. Sheädes

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