120 SPRING-TIDE. 



West Saxon dialect have enabled me to 

 comprehend the song, and I must beg you 

 to obtain me a copy of it. 



S. I '11 take care that you have it. 



Simon. [Without] Will 'e plaze to ha' 

 another, zur. 



S. No, not to-night, Simon ; we must 

 be trudging homeward : it is growing dark. 

 Look to your panniers. Give Mrs. Slater 

 a brace of trouts, and follow us directly. 

 Come along, Julian. 



[Exeunt. 



Twilight. The Meadows. SENEX, JULIAN ; 

 SIMON bringing up the rear. 



Julian. The air smells sweetly now the 

 sun is down. 



Senex. " The smell of a field which the 

 Lord has blessed." The daisy and other 

 flowers which turn to the sun, are closed, but 

 the fragrant climbing plants in the hedge- 



