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Poem by William Barnes Third Collection. Lwonesomeness As I do zew, wi’ nimble hand, In here avore the window’s light, How still do all the housegear stand Around my lwonesome zight. How still do all the housegear stand Since Willie now ’ve a-left the land. The rwose-tree’s window-sheädèn bow Do hang in leaf, an’ win’-blow’d flow’rs, Avore my lwonesome eyes do show Theäse bright November hours. Avore my lwonesome eyes do show Wi’ nwone but I to zee em blow. The sheädes o’ leafy buds, avore The peänes, do sheäke upon the glass, An’ stir in light upon the vloor, Where now vew veet do pass, An’ stir in light upon the vloor, Where there’s a-stirrèn nothèn mwore. This win’ mid dreve upon the maïn, My brother’s ship, a-plowèn foam, But not bring mother, cwold, nor raïn, At her now happy hwome. But not bring mother, cwold, nor raïn, Where she is out o’ pain. Zoo now that I’m a-mwopèn dumb, A-keepèn father’s house, do you Come of’en wi’ your work vrom hwome, Vor company. Now do. Come of’en wi’ your work vrom hwome, Up here a-while. Do come. William Barnes William Barnes's other poems:
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