Second Collection. Faïr Emily of Yarrow Mill
Dear Yarrowham, ’twer many miles Vrom thy green meäds that, in my walk, I met a maïd wi’ winnèn smiles, That talk’d as vo’k at hwome do talk; An’ who at last should she be vound, Ov all the souls the sky do bound, But woone that trod at vu’st thy groun’ Fair Emily ov Yarrow Mill. But thy wold house an’ elmy nook, An’ wall-screen’d geärden’s mossy zides, Thy grassy meäds an’ zedgy brook, An’ high-bank’d leänes, wi’ sheädy rides, Wer all a-known to me by light Ov eärly days, a-quench’d by night, Avore they met the younger zight Ov Emily ov Yarrow Mill. An’ now my heart do leäp to think O’ times that I’ve a-spent in plaÿ, Bezide thy river’s rushy brink, Upon a deäizybed o’ May; I lov’d the friends thy land ha’ bore. An’ I do love the paths they wore, An’ I do love thee all the mwore, Vor Emily ov Yarrow Mill. When bright above the e’th below The moon do spread abroad his light, An’ aïr o’ zummer nights do blow Athirt the vields in plaÿsome flight, ’Tis then delightsome under all The sheädes o’ boughs by path or wall, But mwostly thine when they do vall On Emily ov Yarrow Mill.
William Barnes’s other poems:
