THE YEAR-CLOCK.

We zot bezide the leäfy wall,

Upon the bench at evenfall,

While aunt led off our minds vrom ceäre

Wi' veäiry teäles, I can't tell where:

An' vound us woone among her stock

O' feäbles, o' the girt Year-clock.

His feäce wer blue's the zummer skies,

An' wide's the zight o' lookèn eyes,

For hands, a zun wi' glowèn feäce,

An' peäler moon wi' swifter peäce,

Did wheel by stars o' twinklèn light,

By bright-wall'd day, an' dark-treed night;

An' down upon the high-sky'd land,

A-reachèn wide, on either hand,

Wer hill an' dell wi' win'-swaÿ'd trees,

An' lights a-zweepèn over seas,

An' gleamèn cliffs, an' bright-wall'd tow'rs,

Wi' sheädes a-markèn on the hours;

An' as the feäce, a-rollèn round,

Brought comely sheäpes along the ground.

The Spring did come in winsome steäte

Below a glowèn raïnbow geäte;

An' fan wi' aïr a-blowèn weak,

Her glossy heäir, an' rwosy cheäk,

As she did shed vrom oben hand,

The leäpèn zeed on vurrow'd land;

The while the rook, wi' heästy flight,

A-floatèn in the glowèn light,

Did bear avore her glossy breast

A stick to build her lofty nest,

An' strong-limb'd Tweil, wi' steady hands,

Did guide along the vallow lands

The heavy zull, wi' bright-sheär'd beam,

Avore the weäry oxen team,

Wi' Spring a-gone there come behind

Sweet Zummer, jaÿ ov ev'ry mind,

Wi' feäce a-beamèn to beguile

Our weäry souls ov ev'ry tweil.

While birds did warble in the dell

In softest aïr o' sweetest smell;

An' she, so winsome-feäir did vwold

Her comely limbs in green an' goold,

An' wear a rwosy wreath, wi' studs

O' berries green, an' new-born buds,

A-fring'd in colours vier-bright,

Wi' sheäpes o' buttervlees in flight.

When Zummer went, the next ov all

Did come the sheäpe o' brown-feäc'd Fall,

A-smilèn in a comely gown

O' green, a-shot wi' yellow-brown,

A-border'd wi' a goolden stripe

O' fringe, a-meäde o' corn-ears ripe,

An' up ageän her comely zide,

Upon her rounded eärm, did ride

A perty basket, all a-twin'd

O' slender stems wi' leaves an' rind,

A-vill'd wi' fruit the trees did shed,

All ripe, in purple, goold, an' red;

An' busy Leäbor there did come

A-zingèn zongs ov harvest hwome,

An' red-ear'd dogs did briskly run

Roun' cheervul Leisure wi' his gun,

Or stan' an' mark, wi' stedvast zight,

The speckled pa'tridge rise in flight.

An' next ageän to mild-feäc'd Fall

Did come peäle Winter, last ov all,

A-bendèn down, in thoughtvul mood,

Her head 'ithin a snow-white hood

A-deck'd wi' icy-jewels, bright

An' cwold as twinklèn stars o' night;

An' there wer weary Leäbor, slack

O' veet to keep her vrozen track,

A-lookèn off, wi' wistful eyes,

To reefs o' smoke, that there did rise

A-meltèn to the peäle-feäc'd zun,

Above the houses' lofty tun.

An' there the girt Year-clock did goo

By day an' night, vor ever true,

Wi' mighty wheels a-rollèn round

'Ithout a beät, 'ithout a sound.

Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect · 第 533 / 587 题