William Barnes (Уильям Барнс)

Second Collection. John Bleäke at Hwome

JOHN BLEÄKE AT HWOME AT NIGHT

No: where the woak do overspread,
The grass begloom’d below his head,
An’ water, under bowèn zedge,
A-springèn vrom the river’s edge,
Do ripple, as the win’ do blow,
An’ sparkle, as the sky do glow;
An’ grey-leav’d withy-boughs do cool,
Wi’ darksome sheädes, the clear-feäced pool,
My chimny smoke, ’ithin the lew
O’ trees is there arisèn blue;
Avore the night do dim our zight,
Or candle-light, a-sheenèn bright,
Do sparkle drough the window.

When crumpled leaves o’ Fall do bound
Avore the wind, along the ground,
An’ wither’d bennet-stems do stand
A-quiv’rèn on the chilly land;
The while the zun, wi’ zettèn rim,
Do leave the workman’s pathway dim;
An’ sweet-breath’d childern’s hangèn heads
Be laid wi’ kisses, on their beds;
Then I do seek my woodland nest,
An’ zit bezide my vier at rest,
While night’s a-spread, where day’s a-vled,
An’ lights do shed their beams o’ red,
A-sparklèn drough the window.

If winter’s whistlèn winds do vreeze
The snow a-gather’d on the trees,
An’ sheädes o’ poplar stems do vall
In moonlight up athirt the wall;
An’ icicles do hang below
The oves, a-glitt’rèn in a row,
An’ risèn stars do slowly ride
Above the ruf’s upslantèn zide;
Then I do lay my weary head
Asleep upon my peaceful bed,
When middle-night ha’ quench’d the light
Ov embers bright, an’ candles white
A-beamèn drough the window.

William Barnes’s other poems:

  1. Third Collection. Comen Hwome
  2. Second Collection. Slow to come, quick agone
  3. Third Collection. Things do Come Round
  4. Third Collection. I’m out o’ Door
  5. Second Collection. The Wife a-lost




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