Poem by 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.

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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