Second Collection. The Blackbird
’Twer out at Penley I’d a-past A zummer day that went too vast, An’ when the zettèn zun did spread On western clouds a vi’ry red; The elems’ leafy limbs wer still Above the gravel-bedded rill, An’ under en did warble sh’ill, Avore the dusk, the blackbird. An’ there, in sheädes o’ darksome yews, Did vlee the maïdens on their tooes, A-laughèn sh’ill wi’ merry feäce When we did vind their hidèn pleäce. ’Ithin the loose-bough’d ivy’s gloom, Or lofty lilac, vull in bloom, Or hazzle-wrides that gi’ed em room Below the zingèn blackbird. Above our heads the rooks did vlee To reach their nested elem-tree, An’ splashèn vish did rise to catch The wheelèn gnots above the hatch; An’ there the miller went along, A-smilèn, up the sheädy drong, But yeet too deaf to hear the zong A-zung us by the blackbird. An’ there the sh’illy-bubblèn brook Did leäve behind his rocky nook, To run drough meäds a-chill’d wi’ dew, Vrom hour to hour the whole night drough; But still his murmurs wer a-drown’d By vaïces that mid never sound Ageän together on that ground, Wi’ whislèns o’ the blackbird.
William Barnes’s other poems:
