Third Collection. Went vrom Hwome
The stream-be-wander’d dell did spread Vrom height to woody height, An’ meäds did lie, a grassy bed, Vor elem-sheädèn light. The milkmaïd by her white-horn’d cow, Wi’ païl so white as snow, Did zing below the elem bough A-swaÿèn to an’ fro. An’ there the evenèn’s low-shot light Did smite the high tree-tops, An’ rabbits vrom the grass, in fright, Did leäp ’ithin the copse. An’ there the shepherd wi’ his crook, An’ dog bezide his knee, Went whisslèn by, in aïr that shook The ivy on the tree. An’ on the hill, ahead, wer bars A-showèn dark on high, Avore, as eet, the evenèn stars Did twinkle in the sky, An’ then the last sweet evenèn-tide That my long sheäde vell there, I went down Brindon’s thymy zide, To my last sleep at Ware.
William Barnes’s other poems:
