First Collection. Spring. Evenèn Twilight
Ah! they vew zummers brought us round The happiest days that we’ve a-vound. When in the orcha’d, that did stratch To westward out avore the patch Ov high-bough’d wood, an’ shelve to catch The western zun-light, we did meet Wi’ merry tongues an’ skippèn veet At evenèn in the twilight. The evenèn aïr did fan, in turn, The cheäks the midday zun did burn. An’ zet the russlèn leaves at plaÿ, An’ meäke the red-stemm’d brembles sway In bows below the snow-white maÿ; An’ whirlèn roun’ the trees, did sheäke Jeäne’s raven curls about her neck, They evenèns in the twilight. An’ there the yollow light did rest Upon the bank towárd the west, An’ twitt’rèn birds did hop in drough The hedge, an’ many a skippèn shoe Did beät the flowers, wet wi’ dew, As underneäth the tree’s wide limb Our merry sheäpes did jumpy, dim, They evenèns in the twilight. How sweet’s the evenèn dusk to rove Along wi’ woone that we do love! When light enough is in the sky To sheäde the smile an’ light the eye ’Tis all but heaven to be by; An’ bid, in whispers soft an’ light ’S the ruslèn ov a leaf, “Good night,” At evenèn in the twilight. An’ happy be the young an’ strong, That can but work the whole day long So merry as the birds in spring; An’ have noo ho vor any thing Another day mid teäke or bring; But meet, when all their work’s a-done. In orcha’d vor their bit o’ fun At evenèn in the twilight.
William Barnes’s other poems:
- First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas
- Third Collection. Comen Hwome
- Second Collection. Slow to come, quick agone
- Second Collection. John Bleäke at Hwome
- Third Collection. Things do Come Round
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