Poem by William Barnes

Second Collection. Seats

When starbright maïdens be to zit
 In silken frocks, that they do wear,
The room mid have, as ’tis but fit,
 A han’some seat vor vo’k so feäir;
But we, in zun-dried vield an’ wood,
 Ha’ seats as good’s a goolden chair.

Vor here, ’ithin the woody drong,
 A ribbèd elem-stem do lie,
A-vell’d in Spring, an’ stratch’d along
 A bed o’ grægles up knee-high,
A sheädy seat to rest, an’ let
 The burnèn het o’ noon goo by.

Or if you’d look, wi’ wider scope,
 Out where the gray-tree’d plaïn do spread,
The ash bezide the zunny slope,
 Do sheäde a cool-aïr’d deäisy bed,
An’ grassy seat, wi’ spreadèn eaves
 O’ rus’lèn leaves, above your head.

An’ there the traïn mid come in zight,
 Too vur to hear a-rollèn by,
A-breathèn quick, in heästy flight,
 His breath o’ tweil, avore the sky,
The while the waggon, wi’ his lwoad,
 Do crawl the rwoad a-windèn nigh.

Or now theäse happy holiday
 Do let vo’k rest their weary lim’s,
An’ lwoaded haÿ’s a-hangèn gray,
 Above the waggon-wheels’ dry rims,
The meäd ha’ seats in weäles or pooks,
 By windèn brooks, wi’ crumblèn brims.

Or if you’d gi’e your thoughtvul mind
 To yonder long-vorseäken hall,
Then teäke a stwonèn seat behind
 The ivy on the broken wall,
An’ learn how e’thly wealth an’ might
 Mid dim’ their height, an’ then mid vall.

1. Second Collection. Light or Sheäde
2. Third Collection. Shaftesbury Feäir
3. Second Collection. The Waggon a-stooded
4. Third Collection. Comen Hwome
5. Third Collection. The Neäme Letters

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