Ah! sad wer we as we did peäce The wold church road, wi' downcast feäce, The while the bells, that mwoan'd so deep Above our child a-left asleep, Wer now a-zingèn all alive Wi' tother bells to meäke the vive. But up at woone pleäce we come by, 'Twere hard to keep woone's two eyes dry; On Steän-cliff road, 'ithin the drong, Up where, as vo'k do pass along, The turnèn stile, a-painted white, Do sheen by day an' show by night. Vor always there, as we did goo To church, thik stile did let us drough, Wi' spreadèn eärms that wheel'd to guide Us each in turn to tother zide. An' vu'st ov all the traïn he took My wife, wi' winsome gaït an' look; An' then zent on my little maïd, A-skippèn onward, overjäy'd To reach ageän the pleäce o' pride, Her comely mother's left han' zide. An' then, a-wheelèn roun' he took On me, 'ithin his third white nook. An' in the fourth, a-sheäken wild, He zent us on our giddy child. But eesterday he guided slow My downcast Jenny, vull o' woe, An' then my little maïd in black, A-walken softly on her track; An' after he'd a-turn'd ageän, To let me goo along the leäne, He had noo little bwoy to vill His last white eärms, an' they stood still. TO THE WATER-CROWFOOT O small-feäc'd flow'r that now dost bloom, To stud wi' white the shallow Frome, An' leäve the [2]clote to spread his flow'r On darksome pools o' stwoneless Stour, When sof'ly-rizèn airs do cool The water in the sheenèn pool, Thy beds o' snow white buds do gleam So feäir upon the sky-blue stream, As whitest clouds, a-hangèn high Avore the blueness of the sky. [Footnote 2: The yellow water-lily.] ZUMMER AN' WINTER When I led by zummer streams The pride o' Lea, as naïghbours thought her, While the zun, wi' evenèn beams, Did cast our sheädes athirt the water: Winds a-blowèn, Streams a-flowèn, Skies a-glowèn, Tokens ov my jay zoo fleetèn, Heightened it, that happy meetèn. Then, when maïd and man took pleäces, Gay in winter's Chris'mas dances, Showèn in their merry feäces Kindly smiles an' glisnèn glances: Stars a-winkèn, Days a-shrinkèn, Sheädes a-zinkèn, Brought anew the happy meetèn, That did meäke the night too fleetèn. JAMES MATTHEW BARRIE (1860-)