First Collection. Sundry Pieces. The Guide Post Why thik wold post so long kept out, Upon the knap, his eärms astrout, A-zendèn on the weary veet By where the dree cross roads do meet; An’ I’ve a-come so much thik woy, Wi’ happy heart, a man or bwoy, That I’d a-meäde, at last, a’móst A friend o’ thik wold guidèn post. An’ there, wi’ woone white eärm he show’d, Down over bridge, the Leyton road; Wi’ woone, the leäne a-leädèn roun’ By Bradlinch Hill, an’ on to town; An’ wi’ the last, the way to turn Drough common down to Rushiburn,— The road I lik’d to goo the mwost Ov all upon the guidèn post. The Leyton road ha’ lofty ranks Ov elem trees upon his banks; The woone athirt the hill do show Us miles o’ hedgy meäds below; An’ he to Rushiburn is wide Wi’ strips o’ green along his zide, An’ ouer brown-ruf’d house a-móst In zight o’ thik wold guidèn post. An’ when the haÿ-meäkers did zwarm O’ zummer evenèns out vrom farm, The merry maïdens an’ the chaps, A-peärtèn there wi’ jokes an’ slaps, Did goo, zome woone way off, an’ zome Another, all a-zingèn hwome; Vor vew o’m had to goo, at mwost, A mile beyond the guidèn post. Poor Nanny Brown, woone darkish night, When he’d a-been a-païnted white, Wer frighten’d, near the gravel pits, So dead’s a hammer into fits, A-thinkèn ’twer the ghost she know’d Did come an’ haunt the Leyton road; Though, after all, poor Nanny’s ghost Turn’d out to be the guidèn post. |
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