William Barnes

First Collection. Fall. The Veäiry Veet that I do meet

When dewy fall’s red leaves do vlee
Along the grass below the tree,
Or lie in yollow beds a-shook
Upon the shallow-water’d brook,
Or drove ’ithin a sheädy nook;
 Then softly, in the evenèn, down
 The knap do steal along the groun’
  The veäiry veet that I do meet
  Below the row o’ beech trees.

’Tis jist avore the candle-light
Do redden windows up at night,
An’ peäler stars do light the vogs
A-risèn vrom the brooks an’ bogs,
An’ when in barkens yoppèn dogs
 Do bark at vo’k a-comèn near,
 Or growl a-lis’enèn to hear
  The veäiry veet that I do meet
  Below the row o’ beech trees.

Dree times a-year do bless the road
O’ womanhood a-gwaïn abrode:
When vu’st her litty veet do tread
The eärly Maÿ’s white deäisy bed:
When leaves be all a-scattered dead;
 An’ when the winter’s vrozen grass
 Do glissen in the zun lik’ glass
  Vor veäiry veet that I do meet
  Below the row o’ beech trees.