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...
Hwomely Rhymes: A Second Collection of Poems in the Dorset Dialect - Page 154
by William Barnes - 1859 - 208 pages
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