Third Collection. Fancy
In stillness we ha’ words to hear, An’ sheäpes to zee in darkest night, An’ tongues a-lost can haïl us near, An’ souls a-gone can smile in zight; When Fancy now do wander back To years a-spent, an’ bring to mind Zome happy tide a-left behind In’ weästèn life’s slow-beatèn track. When feädèn leaves do drip wi’ raïn, Our thoughts can ramble in the dry; When Winter win’ do zweep the plaïn We still can have a zunny sky. Vor though our limbs be winter-wrung, We still can zee, wi’ Fancy’s eyes, The brightest looks ov e’th an’ skies, That we did know when we wer young. In païn our thoughts can pass to eäse, In work our souls can be at plaÿ, An’ leäve behind the chilly leäse Vor warm-aïr’d meäds o’ new mow’d haÿ. When we do vlee in Fancy’s flight Vrom daily ills avore our feäce, An’ linger in zome happy pleäce Ov mè’th an’ smiles, an’ warmth an’ light.
William Barnes’s other poems:
