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.
William Barnes’s other poems:
