Fall: Meaple Leaves Be Yollow
Come, let’s stroll down so vur’s the poun’,
Avore the sparklen zun is down:
The zummer’s gone, an’ days so feaeir
As theaese be now a-getten reaere.
The night, wi’ mwore than daylight’s sheaere
O’ wat’ry sky, do wet wi’ dew
The ee-grass up above woone’s shoe,
An’ meaeple leaves be yollow.
The last hot doust, above the road,
An’ vu’st dead leaves ha’ been a-blow’d
By playsome win’s where spring did spread
The blossoms that the zummer shed;
An’ near blue sloos an’ conkers red
The evenen zun, a zetten soon,
Do leaeve a-quiv’ren to the moon,
The meaeple leaves so yollow.
Zoo come along, an’ let’s injay
The last fine weather while do stay;
While thou canst hang, wi’ ribbons slack,
Thy bonnet down upon thy back,
Avore the winter, cwold an’ black,
Do kill thy flowers, an’ avore
Thy bird-cage is a-took in door,
Though meaeple leaves be yollow.
Autres oeuvres par William Barnes...
