Hwomely Rhymes: A Second Collection of Poems in the Dorset Dialect |
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Hwomely Rhymes, a Second Collection of Poems in the Dorset Dialect William Barnes No preview available - 2016 |
Hwomely Rhymes: A Second Collection of Poems in the Dorset Dialect William Barnes No preview available - 2019 |
Common terms and phrases
a'ter ageän aīr alwone athirt auver avore beät bezide bide birds Blackmwore bleädes boughs burnčn bwoy ceäre cheäks childern chile cwold darksome Do'set door droo drow eärms ev'ry evenčn faether feäce feäir flow'rs Gammony Gay geärden geäte gi'e grass greäce happy he'th head heäir hoss hwome idden ithin ithout ja˙ John laef laest leän Leeburn lewth light lwoad lwonesome Lydlinch maīd maīdens me'th meäde meäke meäre merry mornčn mossy mwore neäme night oonce oone oone's paeth paīls peäce plaīn pleäce raīn road roun round sheädes sheäke sheenčn smile smilčn souls sound stwone stwončn teäke theäse ther There's thik tow'r trees twer twile vaīce vall veet vields vind vingers vloor vo'k vrom vu'st wall wheels wind windor woak wold vo'k woont yollor zide zight zing zome zong zummer zunny
Popular passages
Page 154 - Below the beeches' bough, my love, Where you did never come, An' I don't look to meet ye now, As I do look at hwome. Since you noo mwore be at my zide, In walks in zummer het, I'll goo alwone where mist do ride, Drough trees a-drippen wet: Below the rain-wet bough, my love, Where you did never come, An' I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I do grieve at hwome.
Page 155 - Below the darksome bough, my love, Where you did never dine, An' I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I at hwome do pine. Since I do miss your va'ice an" feace In prayer at eventide, I'll pray wi' woone sad va'ice vor greace To goo where you do bide; Above the tree an' bough, my love, Where you be gone avore, An' be a-wai'ten vor me now, To come vor evermwore.
Page 147 - FALSE FRIENDS-LIKE When I wer still a bwoy, an' mother's pride, A bigger bwoy spoke up to me so kind-like, ' If you do like, I'll treat ye wi' a ride In thease wheel-barrow here.' Zoo I wer blind-like To what he had a-worken in his mind-like, An' mounted vor a passenger inside; An' comen to a puddle, perty wide, He tipp'd me in, a-grinnen back behind-like.
Page 1 - An' blow, but where the tow'r Do rise among the bricken tuns, In Blackmwore by the Stour. If you could zee their comely gait, An' pretty feaces' smiles, A-trippen on so light o...
Page 105 - When skies wer' peale wi' twinklen stars, An' whislen a'ir a-risen keen ; An' birds did leave the icy bars To vind, in woods, their mossy screen ; When vrozen grass, as white's a sheet, Did scrunchy sharp below our veet, An' water, that did sparkle red At zunzet, wer' a-vrozen dead ; The ringers then did spend an hour A-ringen changes up in tow'r ; Vor Lydlinch bells be good vor sound, An' liked by all the na'ighbours round.
Page 155 - I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I do grieve at hwome. Since now bezide my dinner-bwoard Your vaice do never sound, I'll eat the bit I can avword A-vield upon the ground ; Below the darksome bough, my love, Where you did never dine, An' I don't grieve to miss ye now, As I at hwome do pine.
Page 117 - An' when in life our love do cling The clwosest round zome single thing, We then do vind that all the rest Do wheel roun' that, vor vu'st an' best ; Zoo while our life do last, mid nought But what is good an' feair be sought, In word or deed, or heart or thought, An
Page 2 - Then let en look en out a wife In Blackmwore by the Stour. As I upon my road did pass A school-house back in May, There out upon the beaten grass Wer maidens at their play ; An' as the pretty souls did tweil An' smile, I cried, " The flow'r O' beauty, then, is still in bud In Blackmwore by the Stour.
Page 2 - An' all the farmers' housen show'd Their daughters at the door; You'd cry to bachelors at hwome — "Here, come: 'ithin an hour You 'll vind ten maidens to your mind In Blackmwore by the Stour." An' if you look'd 'ithin their door, To zee em in their pleace, A-doen housework up avore Their smilen mother's feace; You'd cry — "Why, if a man would wive An' thrive, 'ithout a dow'r, Then let en look en out a wife In Blackmwore by the Stour.
Page 206 - November's win' did blow, Wi' hufflen storms along the plain, An' blacken'd leaves did lie below The neaked tree, a-zoak'd wi...