Third Collection. Grammer a-crippled
“The zunny copse ha’ birds to zing, The leäze ha’ cows to low, The elem trees ha’ rooks on wing, The meäds a brook to flow, But I can walk noo mwore, to pass The drashel out abrode, To wear a path in theäse year’s grass Or tread the wheelworn road,” Cried Grammer, “then adieu, O runnèn brooks, An’ vleèn rooks, I can’t come out to you. If ’tis God’s will, why then ’tis well, That I should bide ’ithin a wall.” An’ then the childern, wild wi’ fun, An’ loud wi’ jaÿvul sounds, Sprung in an’ cried, “We had a run, A-plaÿèn heäre an’ hounds; But oh! the cowslips where we stopt In Maÿcreech, on the knap!” An’ vrom their little han’s each dropt Some cowslips in her lap. Cried Grammer, “Only zee! I can’t teäke strolls, An’ little souls Would bring the vields to me. Since ’tis God’s will, an’ mus’ be well That I should bide ’ithin a wall.” “Oh! there be prison walls to hold The han’s o’ lawless crimes, An’ there be walls arear’d vor wold An’ zick in tryèn times; But oh! though low mid slant my ruf, Though hard my lot mid be, Though dry mid come my daily lwoaf, Mid mercy leäve me free!” Cried Grammer, “Or adieu To jaÿ; O grounds, An’ bird’s gaÿ sounds If I mus’ gi’e up you, Although ’tis well, in God’s good will, That I should bide ’ithin a wall.” “Oh! then,” we answer’d, “never fret, If we shall be a-blest, We’ll work vull hard drough het an’ wet To keep your heart at rest: To woaken chair’s vor you to vill, For you shall glow the coal, An’ when the win’ do whissle sh’ill We’ll screen it vrom your poll.” Cried Grammer, “God is true. I can’t but feel He smote to heal My wounded heart in you; An’ zoo ’tis well, if ’tis His will, That I be here ’ithin a wall.”
William Barnes’s other poems:
