230 POEMS IN THE DORSET DIALECT. 



In zummer time we went to teake 



Our picnic by the castle walls ; 



An' play'd our geames bezide the leake, 



Where swans did zwim by watervalls. 



An' there, vor merry pranks, did clim' 



The broken wall or elems lim'. 



" Here, zee where I'm a-clomb ; " 



"Well, zee where I'm a-come." 



"You can't clim' down, wold bwoy ;" 



" I can, I'll bet. Heigh, hoy!" 



An' down he veil, 



You needen tell, 



When we wer young together. 



6. WINTER WEATHER. 



When elem stems do rise, in row, 

 Dark brown, vrom hangens under snow, 

 An' woods do reach as black as night 

 By slopen yields o' cleanest white ; 

 The shooters by the snowy rick, 

 Where trees be high, an' wood is thick, 

 A-mark^n tracks the geame do prick, 

 Do like the winter weather. 



Or where do spread the grey-blue sheet 

 Ov ice, vor skeater's gliden veet 

 That they do lift, vrom zide to zide, 

 Long yards, an' hit em down to slide ; 

 Or sliders, one a-tott'ren slack 

 Of limb, an one upon his back, 

 An' one upright, do keep his track 

 Ha' fun, in winter weather. 



