Poem by William Barnes

First Collection. Summer. Be’mi’ster

Sweet Be’mi’ster, that bist a-bound
By green an’ woody hills all round,
Wi’ hedges, reachèn up between
A thousan’ vields o’ zummer green,
Where elems’ lofty heads do drow
Their sheädes vor haÿ-meakers below,
An’ wild hedge-flow’rs do charm the souls
O’ maïdens in their evenèn strolls.

When I o’ Zunday nights wi’ Jeäne
Do saunter drough a vield or leäne,
Where elder-blossoms be a-spread
Above the eltrot’s milk-white head,
An’ flow’rs o’ blackberries do blow
Upon the brembles, white as snow,
To be outdone avore my zight
By Jeän’s gaÿ frock o’ dazzlèn white;

Oh! then there’s nothèn that’s ’ithout
Thy hills that I do ho about,—
Noo bigger pleäce, noo gaÿer town,
Beyond thy sweet bells’ dyèn soun’.
As they do ring, or strike the hour,
At evenèn vrom thy wold red tow’r.
No: shelter still my head, an’ keep
My bwones when I do vall asleep.

1. Third Collection. Comen Hwome
2. Third Collection. Tweil
3. Second Collection. The Slantèn light o’ Fall
4. Second Collection. Light or Sheäde
5. Second Collection. Slow to come, quick agone

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