Third Collection. The Zilver-weed
The zilver-weed upon the green, Out where my sons an’ daughters plaÿ’d, Had never time to bloom between The litty steps o’ bwoy an’ maïd. But rwose-trees down along the wall, That then wer all the maïden’s ceäre, An’ all a-trimm’d an’ traïn’d, did bear Their bloomèn buds vrom Spring to Fall. But now the zilver leaves do show To zummer day their goolden crown, Wi’ noo swift shoe-zoles’ litty blow, In merry plaÿ to beät em down. An’ where vor years zome busy hand Did traïn the rwoses wide an’ high; Now woone by woone the trees do die, An’ vew of all the row do stand.
William Barnes’s other poems:
