Summer: Haven Woones Fortune A-Twold
In leaene the gipsies, as we went
A-milken, had a-pitch’d their tent,
Between the gravel-pit an’ clump
O’ trees, upon the little hump:
An’ while upon the grassy groun’
Their smoken vire did crack an’ bleaeze,
Their shaggy-cwoated hoss did greaeze
Among the bushes vurder down.
An’ zoo, when we brought back our pails,
The woman met us at the rails,
An’ zaid she’d tell us, if we’d show
Our han’s, what we should like to know.
Zoo Poll zaid she’d a mind to try
Her skill a bit, if I would vu’st;
Though, to be sure, she didden trust
To gipsies any mwore than I.
Well; I agreed, an’ off all dree
O’s went behind an elem tree,
An’ after she’d a-zeed 'ithin
My han’ the wrinkles o’ the skin,
She twold me—an’ she must a-know’d
That Dicky met me in the leaene,—
That I’d a-walk’d, an’ should ageaen,
Wi’ zomebody along thik road.
An’ then she twold me to bewar
O’ what the letter _M_ stood vor.
An’ as I walk’d, o’ _M_onday night,
Drough _M_eaed wi’ Dicky overright
The _M_ill, the _M_iller, at the stile,
Did stan’ an’ watch us teaeke our stroll,
An’ then, a blabben dousty-poll!
Twold _M_other o’t. Well wo’th his while!
An’ Poll too wer a-bid bewar
O’ what the letter _F_ stood vor;
An’ then, because she took, at _F_eaeir,
A bosom-pin o’ Jimmy Heaere,
Young _F_ranky beaet en black an’ blue.
’Tis _F_ vor _F_eaeir; an’ 'twer about
A _F_earen _F_rank an’ Jimmy foueght,
Zoo I do think she twold us true.
In short, she twold us all about
What had a-vell, or would vall out;
An’ whether we should spend our lives
As maidens, or as wedded wives;
But when we went to bundle on,
The gipsies’ dog were at the rails
A-lappen milk vrom ouer pails,—
A pretty deael o’ Poll’s wer gone.
Altre opere di William Barnes...
