Third Collection. Ruth a-ridèn
Ov all the roads that ever bridge Did bear athirt a river’s feäce, Or ho’ses up an’ down the ridge Did wear to doust at ev’ry peäce, I’ll teäke the Stalton leäne to tread, By banks wi’ primrwose-beds bespread, An’ steätely elems over head, Where Ruth do come a-ridèn. An’ I would rise when vields be grey Wi’ mornèn dew, avore ’tis dry, An’ beat the doust droughout the day To bluest hills ov all the sky; If there, avore the dusk o’ night, The evenèn zup, a-sheenèn bright, Would paÿ my leäbors wi’ the zight O’ Ruth—o’ Ruth a-ridèn. Her healthy feäce is rwosy feäir, She’s comely in her gaït an’ lim’, An’ sweet’s the smile her feäce do wear, Below her cap’s well-rounded brim; An’ while her skirt’s a-spreädèn wide, In vwolds upon the ho’se’s zide, He’ll toss his head, an’ snort wi’ pride, To trot wi’ Ruth a-ridèn. An’ as her ho’se’s rottlèn peäce Do slacken till his veet do beät A slower trot, an’ till her feäce Do bloom avore the tollman’s geäte; Oh! he’d be glad to oben wide His high-back’d geäte, an’ stand azide, A-givèn up his toll wi’ pride, Vor zight o’ Ruth a-ridèn. An’ oh! that Ruth could be my bride, An’ I had ho’ses at my will, That I mid teäke her by my zide, A-ridèn over dell an’ hill; I’d zet wi’ pride her litty tooe ’Ithin a stirrup, sheenèn new, An’ leäve all other jaÿs to goo Along wi’ Ruth a-ridèn. If maïdens that be weak an’ peäle A-mwopèn in the house’s sheäde, Would wish to be so blithe and heäle As you did zee young Ruth a-meäde; Then, though the zummer zun mid glow, Or though the Winter win’ mid blow, They’d leäp upon the saddle’s bow, An’ goo, lik’ Ruth, a-ridèn. While evenèn light do sof’ly gild The moss upon the elem’s bark, Avore the zingèn bird’s a-still’d. Or woods be dim, or day is dark, Wi’ quiv’rèn grass avore his breast, In cowslip beds, do lie at rest, The ho’se that now do goo the best Wi’ rwosy Ruth a-ridèn.
William Barnes’s other poems:
