Poem by William Barnes

Third Collection. Good Night

While down the meäds wound slow,
 Water vor green-wheel’d mills,
Over the streams bright bow,
 Win’ come vrom dark-back’d hills.
Birds on the win’ shot along down steep
Slopes, wi’ a swift-swung zweep.
Dim weän’d the red streak’d west.
Lim’-weary souls “Good-rest.”

Up on the plough’d hill brow,
 Still wer the zull’s wheel’d beam,
Still wer the red-wheel’d plough,
 Free o’ the strong limb’d team.
Still wer the shop that the smith meäde ring,
Dark where the sparks did spring;
Low shot the zun’s last beams.
Lim’-weary souls “Good dreams,”

Where I vrom dark bank-sheädes
 Turn’d up the west hill road,
Where all the green grass bleädes
 Under the zunlight glow’d.
Startled I met, as the zunbeams plaÿ’d
Light, wi’ a zunsmote maïd,
Come vor my day’s last zight.
Zun-brighten’d maïd “Good night.”

1. Second Collection. The Linden on the Lawn
2. Second Collection. When Birds be Still
3. Third Collection. Went vrom Hwome
4. Third Collection. Changes
5. First Collection. Summer. Week’s End in Zummer, in the Wold Vo’k’s Time

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