William Barnes (Уильям Барнс)

Third Collection. My love is good

My love is good, my love is feäir,
 She’s comely to behold, O,
In ev’rything that she do wear,
 Altho’ ’tis new or wold, O.
My heärt do leäp to see her walk,
 So straïght do step her veet, O,
My tongue is dum’ to hear her talk,
 Her vaïce do sound so sweet, O.
The flow’ry groun’ wi’ floor o’ green
Do bear but vew, so good an’ true.

When she do zit, then she do seem
 The feäirest to my zight, O,
Till she do stan’ an’ I do deem,
 She’s feäirest at her height, O.
An’ she do seem ’ithin a room
 The feäirest on a floor, O,
Till I ageän do zee her bloom
 Still feäirer out o’ door, O.
Where flow’ry groun’ wi’ floor o’ green
Do bear but vew, so good an’ true.

An’ when the deäisies be a-press’d
 Below her vootsteps waïght, O,
Do seem as if she look’d the best
 Ov all in walkèn gaït, O.
Till I do zee her zit upright
 Behind the ho’ses neck, O,
A-holdèn wi’ the raïn so tight
 His tossèn head in check, O,
Where flow’ry groun’ wi’ floor o’ green
Do bear but vew, so good an’ true.

I wish I had my own free land
 To keep a ho’se to ride, O,
I wish I had a ho’se in hand
 To ride en at her zide, O.
Vor if I wer as high in rank
 As any duke or lord, O,
Or had the goold the richest bank
 Can shovel from his horde, O,
I’d love her still, if even then
She wer a leäser in a glen.

William Barnes’s other poems:

  1. Third Collection. Things do Come Round
  2. Third Collection. The Little Worold
  3. First Collection. Winter. Keepèn up o’ Chris’mas
  4. Third Collection. Comen Hwome
  5. Second Collection. Slow to come, quick agone




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