Christmas Poem, William Barnes, Dorset dialect poet & friend of Thomas Hardy
William Barnes - St Peters Church,Dorchester To have zome fu n last night: how wer’t? Vor we’d a-worked wi’ all our might To scour the iron things up bright, An’ brush’d an’ scrubb’d the house all drough; An’ brought in vor a brand, a plock O’ wood so big’s an uppen-stock An’ hung a bough o’ misseltoo, An’ ax’d a merry friend or two, To keepen up o’Christmas. An’ zoo you didden come athirt, An’ there wer wold an’ young; an’ Bill, Soon after dark, stalk’d up vrom mill. An’ when he wer a-comin near, He whissled loud vor me to hear; Then roun’ my head my frock I roll’d, An’ stood on orcha’d like a post, To meake en think I wer a ghost. But he wer up to’t, an did scwold To vind me stannen in the cwold, A-keepen up o’ Christmas. We play’d at Forfeits, an’ we spun The trencher roun’, an’ meade such fun! An’ had a geame o’ dree-ceard loo, An’ then begun to hunt the shoe. An’ all the wold vo’k zitten near, A-chatten roun’ the vier pleace, Did smile in woone ano...