Poem by William Barnes

Second Collection. The Bwoat

Where cows did slowly seek the brink
O’ Stour, drough zunburnt grass, to drink;
Wi’ vishèn float, that there did zink
 An’ rise, I zot as in a dream.
The dazzlèn zun did cast his light
On hedge-row blossom, snowy white,
Though nothèn yet did come in zight,
 A-stirrèn on the straÿèn stream;

Till, out by sheädy rocks there show’d,
A bwoat along his foamy road,
Wi’ thik feäir maid at mill, a-row’d
 Wi’ Jeäne behind her brother’s oars.
An’ steätely as a queen o’ vo’k,
She zot wi’ floatèn scarlet cloak,
An’ comèn on, at ev’ry stroke,
 Between my withy-sheäded shores.

The broken stream did idly try
To show her sheäpe a-ridèn by,
The rushes brown-bloom’d stems did ply,
 As if they bow’d to her by will.
The rings o’ water, wi’ a sock,
Did break upon the mossy rock,
An’ gi’e my beätèn heart a shock,
 Above my float’s up-leapèn quill.

Then, lik’ a cloud below the skies,
A-drifted off, wi’ less’nèn size,
An’ lost, she floated vrom my eyes,
 Where down below the stream did wind;
An’ left the quiet weäves woonce mwore
To zink to rest, a sky-blue’d vloor,
Wi’ all so still’s the clote they bore,
 Aye, all but my own ruffled mind.

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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