Poem by 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.

1. Second Collection. The Linden on the Lawn
2. Second Collection. When Birds be Still
3. First Collection. Summer. Week’s End in Zummer, in the Wold Vo’k’s Time
4. Second Collection. The Lydlinch Bells
5. Third Collection. The Wheel Routs

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