242 POEMS IN THE DORSET DIALECT. 



Their brown-dappled dogs do briskly trot 



By russet-brown boughs, while gun smoke grey 

 Do melt in the air o' zunny day, 



Reef after reef, at shot by shot. 



While now I can walk a dusty mile, 



I'll teake me a day, while days be clear, 

 To vind a vew friends that still be dear, 



Feace after feace, an' smile by smile. 



22. ON THE HILL. 



(HUSBAND AND WIFE.) 



H. Why, 'tis nice on the hill, at the time o' the year 

 When the zummer is in, an' the weather is clear ; 

 When the flow'rs at our veet be a-blossomen gay, 

 An' the vields down below us be grey wi' the hay. 

 Hallo ! Why 'tis steep. You do pank. Will ye stop ? 



An' look down aroun, 



A-zot on the ground, 



Where thyme is a-spread 



In a bed, on the mound ? 



Look a-yonder, how glitt'ren do sway the tree tops, 

 A-glowen wi' zunlight a-shot down the copse, 

 Where the greygles, in May, be a sheet o' peale blue. 

 In sheade vrom the het, vrom the wind in the lew, 

 You'll be cwold in the shoulders, then put on your shawl. 

 W. There the Trumans do float 



Down their stream in their bwoat, 



An' Willy do snatch, 



An' do catch at a clote. 



