POEMS IN THE DORSET DIALECT. 245 



F. C. What now, then ? what now ? 



T. An' ring up a peal, vor you ought to be proud 



O' your brothers an' sons. Cheer 'em merry an' loud, 

 Vor the chaps o' wold Cleeveburn do bring from the feast 

 Dree prizes at least. 



T.C. Now guess who they be. 



'Tis spry-vooted Jim, an' 'tis broad-shoulder'd Joe, 

 An' young Will that do jump like a wing-lifted crow 

 By the tall ashen tree. 



F.C. Here's a clap vor each chap, then ; hurrah ! 



T. There Jim, wi' vive others, a-starten, did bound 



Vrom the line, on the grass, like a heare-hunten hound, 

 Wi' out-reachen breast, an' wi' looks that noo feace 

 Could draw vrom the reace. 



F.C. Well done ! Jim, well done ! 



T. An' they shot droo the tree-sheades, like birds on the wing, 

 An' could hear but one gush o' the rock-leapen spring, 

 An' a rook they outstripp'd wi' their flight on the ground 

 Turn'd hopeless around. 



T.C. An' spry-vooted Jim 



Come in all a-panken, wi' red-bloomen feace, 

 The vust by a nose ? by a head ? aye a peace. 

 The sleekest o' limb. 



F.C. Here's a cheer he should hear, then ; hurrah ! 



T. Then on come the spry-vooted jumpers, to bound, 

 Vor height in the air, an' vor length on the ground, 

 An' a-spingen, wi' lags to their thighs all a-clitch'd, 

 An' a-dropp'd as they pitch'd ; 



F.C. Well done ! then, well done ! 



