Winter: Fannys Be’th-Day
How merry, wi’ the cider cup,
We kept poor Fanny’s be’th-day up!
An’ how our busy tongues did run
An’ hands did wag, a-meaeken fun!
What playsome anticks zome [=o]'s done!
An’ how, a-reelen roun’ an’ roun’,
We beaet the merry tuen down,
While music wer a-sounden!
The maidens’ eyes o’ black an’ blue
Did glisten lik’ the mornen dew;
An’ while the cider-mug did stand
A-hissen by the bleaezen brand,
An’ uncle’s pipe wer in his hand,
How little he or we did think
How peaele the zetten stars did blink
While music wer a-sounden.
An’ Fanny’s last young _teen_ begun,
Poor maid, wi’ thik day’s risen zun,
An’ we all wish’d her many mwore
Long years wi’ happiness in store;
An’ as she went an’ stood avore
The vier, by her father’s zide,
Her mother dropp’d a tear o’ pride
While music wer a-sounden.
An’ then we did all kinds o’ tricks
Wi’ han’kerchiefs, an’ strings, an’ sticks:
An’ woone did try to overmatch
Another wi’ zome cunnen catch,
While tothers slyly tried to hatch
Zome geaeme; but yet, by chap an’ maid.
The dancen wer the mwost injay’d,
While music wer a-sounden.
The briskest chap ov all the lot
Wer Tom, that danc’d hizzelf so hot,
He doff’d his cwoat an’ jump’d about,
Wi’ girt new shirt-sleeves all a-strout,
Among the maidens screamen out,
A-thinken, wi’ his strides an’ stamps,
He’d squot their veet wi’ his girt clamps,
While music wer a-sounden.
Then up jump’d uncle vrom his chair,
An’ pull’d out aunt to meaeke a peaeir;
An’ off he zet upon his tooe,
So light’s the best that beaet a shoe,
Wi’ aunt a-crien “Let me goo:”
While all ov us did laugh so loud,
We drown’d the tuen o’ the croud,
While music wer a-sounden.
A-comen out o’ passage, Nan,
Wi’ pipes an’ cider in her han’,
An’ watchen uncle up so sprack,
Vorgot her veet, an’ vell down smack
Athirt the house-dog’s shaggy back,
That wer in passage vor a snooze,
Beyond the reach o’ dancers’ shoes,
While music wer a-sounden.
Autres oeuvres par William Barnes...
