Oh! no, Poll, no! Since they’ve a-took
The common in, our lew wold nook
Don’t seem a-bit as used to look
When we had runnen room;
Girt banks do shut up ev’ry drong,
An’ stratch wi’ thorny backs along
Where we did use to run among
The vuzzen an’ the broom.
Ees; while the ragged colts did crop
The nibbled grass, I used to hop
The emmet-buts, vrom top to top,
So proud o’ my spry jumps:
Wi’ thee behind or at my zide,
A-skippen on so light an’ wide
‘S thy little frock would let thee stride,
Among the vuzzy humps.
Ah while the lark up over head
Did twitter, I did search the red
Thick bunch o’ broom, or yollow bed
O’ vuzzen vor a nest;
An’ thou di’st hunt about, to meet
Wi’ strawberries so red an’ sweet,
Or clogs or shoes off hosses veet,
Or wild thyme vor thy breast;
Or when the cows did run about
A-stung, in zummer, by the stout,
Or when they play’d, or when they foueght,
Di’st stand a-looken on:
An’ where white geese, wi’ long red bills,
Did veed among the emmet-hills,
There we did goo to vind their quills
Alongzide o’ the pon’.
What fun there wer among us, when
The hayward come, wi’ all his men,
To dreve the common, an’ to pen
Strange cattle in the pound;
The cows did bleaere, the men did shout
An’ toss their eaerms an’ sticks about,
An’ vo’ks, to own their stock, come out
Vrom all the housen round.