Spring: Vellen O’ the Tree
Aye, the girt elem tree out in little hwome groun’
Wer a-stannen this mornen, an’ now’s a-cut down.
Aye, the girt elem tree, so big roun’ an’ so high,
Where the mowers did goo to their drink, an’ did lie
In the sheaede ov his head, when the zun at his heighth
Had a-drove em vrom mowen, wi’ het an’ wi’ drith,
Where the hay-meaekers put all their picks an’ their reaekes,
An’ did squot down to snabble their cheese an’ their ceaekes,
An’ did vill vrom their flaggons their cups wi’ their eaele,
An’ did meaeke theirzelves merry wi’ joke an’ wi’ teaele.
Ees, we took up a rwope an’ we tied en all round
At the top o’n, wi’ woone end a-hangen to ground,
An’ we cut, near the ground, his girt stem a’most drough,
An’ we bent the wold head o’n wi’ woone tug or two;
An’ he sway’d all his limbs, an’ he nodded his head,
Till he vell away down like a pillar o’ lead:
An’ as we did run vrom en, there; clwose at our backs,
Oh! his boughs come to groun’ wi’ sich whizzes an’ cracks;
An’ his top wer so lofty that, now he is down,
The stem o’n do reach a-most over the groun’.
Zoo the girt elem tree out in little hwome groun’
Wer a-stannen this mornen, an’ now’s a-cut down.
Altre opere di William Barnes...
