William Barnes ( )


Third Collection. Heedless o my love


Oh! I vust knowd o my true love,
 As the bright moon up above,
Though her brightness wer my pleasure,
 She wer heedless o my love.
Tho twer all gaÿ to my eyes,
Where her feäir feäce did arise,
She noo mwore thought upon my thoughts,
 Than the high moon in the skies.

Oh! I vust heärd her a-zingèn,
 As a sweet bird on a tree,
Though her zingèn wer my pleasure,
 Twer noo zong she zung to me.
Though her sweet vaïce that wer nigh,
Meäde my wild heart to beat high,
She noo mwore thought upon my thoughts,
 Than the birds would passers by.

Oh! I vust knowd her a-weepèn,
 As a raïn-dimmd mornèn sky,
Though her teär-draps dimmd her blushes,
 They wer noo draps I could dry.
Evry bright tear that did roll,
Wer a keen païn to my soul,
But noo heärts pang she did then veel,
 Wer vor my words to console.

But the wold times be a-vanishd,
 An my true love is my bride.
An her kind heart have a-meäde her.
 As an angel at my zide;
Ive her best smiles that mid plaÿ,
Ive her meth when she is gaÿ,
When her tear-draps be a-rollèn,
I can now wipe em awaÿ.



William Barnes's other poems:
  1. Third Collection. A Lot o Maïdens
  2. Second Collection. The Scud
  3. Third Collection. Meth below the Tree
  4. Second Collection. Married Peäirs Love-walk
  5. Third Collection. The Giants in Treädes


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