Part 7 — WILLIAM BARNES

I’d a dream to-night As I fell asleep, O! the touching sight Makes me still to weep: Of my little lad, Gone to leave me sad, Ay, the child I had, But was not to keep. As in heaven high, I my child did seek, There in train came by Children fair and meek, Each in lily white, With a lamp alight; Each was clear to sight, But they did not speak. Then, a little sad, Came my child in turn, But the lamp he had, O it did not burn! He, to clear my doubt, Said, half turn’d about, ‘Your tears put it out; Mother, never mourn.’

SINCE I noo mwore do zee your feäce, Up steärs or down below, I’ll zit me in the lwonesome pleäce, Where flat-bough’d beech do grow; 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, Droo trees a-drippèn 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. Since now bezide my dinner-bwoard Your vaïce 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. Since I do miss your vaïce an’ feäce In praÿer at eventide, I’ll praÿ wi’ woone sad vaïce vor greäce To goo where you do bide; Above the tree an’ bough, my love, Where you be gone avore, An’ be a-waitèn vor me now, To come vor evermwore.