5 8 POEMS IN THE t>OkSET DIALECT. 



Tom : The nightingeale's by Woodcombe bog. 



Come down to hear en over hill. 

 Sister : No, 'tis too vur an' vull o' vog 



Out there. I shall but catch a chill. 

 Here's Bill 

 A-comen. What's his will ? 



Bill : The Lincham bells be up vull swing, 



A-ringen peals. Come up the knoll. 

 Sister : A-ringen peals ? Why they can't ring 

 There now. They be but fit to toll. 

 Well done, 

 Here's Tom agean, vull run. 



Tom : John Hind is by his gearden wall, 



A-playen ov his clarinit. 

 Sister : How I'm a-teaz'd among ye all ! 



I s'pose you'll have me out a bit. 



17. THE BARS ON THE RIDGE. . 



The bars on the timber' d ridge do span 

 The gap that avore the sky do show 

 The vo'k, all a-climben to or fro, 



Woman by woman, man by man. 



To strangers that once do reach the gap, 

 How feair is the dell beyond the ridge, 

 Wi' houses, an' trees, an' church, an' bridge, 



Wood upon wood, or knap by knap. 



Down here be some pleasant ways to rove ; 

 But, oh ! 'tis another pleace behind 

 The bars, that do teake, the mwost, my mind, 



Orchard by orchard, grove by grove. 



