William Barnes

First Collection. Winter. Zunsheen in the Winter

The winter clouds, that long did hide
The zun, be all a-blown azide,
An’ in the light, noo longer dim,
Do sheen the ivy that do clim’
The tower’s zide an’ elem’s stim;
 An’ holmen bushes, in between
 The leafless thorns, be bright an’ green
  To zunsheen o’ the winter.

The trees, that yesterday did twist
In wind’s a-drevèn rain an’ mist,
Do now drow sheädes out, long an’ still;
But roarèn watervals do vill
Their whirlèn pools below the hill,
 Where, wi’ her païl upon the stile,
 A-gwaïn a-milkèn Jeäne do smile
  To zunsheen o’ the winter.

The birds do sheäke, wi’ plaÿsome skips,
The raïn-drops off the bushes’ tips,
A-chirripèn wi’ merry sound;
While over all the grassy ground
The wind’s a-whirlèn round an’ round
 So softly, that the day do seem
 Mwore lik’ a zummer in a dream,
  Than zunsheen in the winter.

The wold vo’k now do meet abrode,
An’ tell o’ winter’s they’ve a-know’d;
When snow wer long above the groun’,
Or floods broke all the bridges down,
Or wind unheal’d a half the town,—
 The teäles o’ wold times long a-gone,
 But ever dear to think upon,
  The zunsheen o’ their winter.

Vor now to them noo brook can run,
Noo hill can feäce the winter zun,
Noo leaves can vall, noo flow’rs can feäde,
Noo snow can hide the grasses bleäde,
Noo vrost can whiten in the sheäde,
 Noo day can come, but what do bring
 To mind ageän their early spring,
  That’s now a-turn’d to winter.