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Poems about Dialect
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Goin’ down the road, Lawd, Goin’ down the road.
I got to leave this town. It’s a lonesome place.
Aw've just mended th' fire wi' a cob; Owd Swaddle has brought thi new shoon;
OWD PINDER were a rackless foo, An’ spent his days i’ spreein’;
I've worn my bits o' shoon away, Wi' Rovin' up an' deawn,
OH, there ’s mony a gate eawt ov eawr teawn-end, But nobbut one for me;
When our downcast looks be smileless, Under others' wrongs an' slightens,
Ov all the birds upon the wing Between the zunny showers o' spring,-
When I led by zummer streams The pride o' Lea, as naighbours thought her,
In the zunsheen of our zummers Wi’ the hay time now a-come,
The girt woak tree that's in the dell! There's noo tree I do love so well;
Come to thy gronny, doy, come to thy gronny, Bless thee, to me tha'rt as pratty as onny;
I'm a weyver, ye knaw, an' awf deead, So I do all at iver I can
THE PRIMRWOSE in the shade do blow, The cowslip in the zun,
When wintry weather's all a-done, An' brooks do sparkle in the zun,
When sycamore leaves wer a-spreaden Green-ruddy in hedges,
We zot bezide the leafy wall, Upon the bench at evenfall,
O AYE! they had woone child bezide, An' a finer your eyes never met,
I'D a dream to-night As I fell asleep,
Since I noo mwore do zee your feäce, Up steärs or down below,
Owd Moxy wrowt hard for his morsil o' breead, An' to keep up his courage he'd sing,
'Tis merry ov a zummer's day, When vo'k be out a-haulèn hay,
News o' grief had overteaken Dark-eyed Fanny, now vorseaken;
Now the light o' the west is a-turn'd to gloom, An' the men be at hwome vrom ground;
O! MARY, when the zun went down, Woone night in spring, w’ viry rim,
Green mwold on zummer bars do show That they've a-dripped in winter wet;
Ah! sad wer we as we did peace the wold church road, wi' downcast feace,
No, I’m a man, I’m vull a man, You beat my manhood, if you can.
A HAPPY day at Whitsuntide, As soon ’s the zun begun to vall,
Last Easter Jim put on his blue Frock cwoat, the vu'st time-vier new;
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