William Barnes

Second Collection. The Motherless Child

The zun’d a-zet back tother night,
 But in the zettèn pleäce
The clouds, a-redden’d by his light,
 Still glow’d avore my feäce.
An’ I’ve a-lost my Meäry’s smile,
I thought; but still I have her chile,
Zoo like her, that my eyes can treäce
The mother’s in her daughter’s feäce.
 O little feäce so near to me,
An’ like thy mother’s gone; why need I zay
Sweet night cloud, wi’ the glow o’ my lost day,
 Thy looks be always dear to me.
The zun’d a-zet another night;
 But, by the moon on high,
He still did zend us back his light
 Below a cwolder sky.
My Meäry’s in a better land
I thought, but still her chile’s at hand,
An’ in her chile she’ll zend me on
Her love, though she herzelf’s a-gone.
 O little chile so near to me,
An’ like thy mother gone; why need I zay,
Sweet moon, the messenger vrom my lost day,
 Thy looks be always dear to me.