Second Collection. The Winter’s Willow
There Liddy zot bezide her cow, Upon her lowly seat, O; A hood did overhang her brow, Her païl wer at her veet, O; An’ she wer kind, an’ she wer feäir, An’ she wer young, an’ free o’ ceäre; Vew winters had a-blow’d her heäir, Bezide the Winter’s Willow. She idden woone a-rear’d in town Where many a gaÿer lass, O, Do trip a-smilèn up an’ down, So peäle wi’ smoke an’ gas, O; But here, in yields o’ greäzèn herds, Her väice ha’ mingled sweetest words Wi’ evenèn cheärms o’ busy birds, Bezide the Winter’s Willow. An’ when, at last, wi’ beätèn breast, I knock’d avore her door, O, She ax’d me in to teäke the best O’ pleäces on the vloor, O; An’ smilèn feäir avore my zight, She blush’d bezide the yollow light O’ bleäzèn brands, while winds o’ night Do sheäke the Winter’s Willow. An’ if there’s readship in her smile, She don’t begrudge to speäre, O, To zomebody, a little while, The empty woaken chair, O; An’ if I’ve luck upon my zide, Why, I do think she’ll be my bride Avore the leaves ha’ twice a-died Upon the Winter’s Willow. Above the coach-wheels’ rollèn rims She never rose to ride, O, Though she do zet her comely lim’s Above the mare’s white zide, O; But don’t become too proud to stoop An’ scrub her milkèn païl’s white hoop, Or zit a-milkèn where do droop, The wet-stemm’d Winter’s Willow. An’ I’ve a cow or two in leäze, Along the river-zide, O, An’ païls to zet avore her knees, At dawn an’ evenèn-tide, O; An’ there she still mid zit, an’ look Athirt upon the woody nook Where vu’st I zeed her by the brook Bezide the Winter’s Willow. Zoo, who would heed the treeless down, A-beät by all the storms, O, Or who would heed the busy town, Where vo’k do goo in zwarms, O; If he wer in my house below The elems, where the vier did glow In Liddy’s feäce, though winds did blow Ageän the Winter’s Willow.
William Barnes’s other poems:
