And Did Those Feet

This is the psalm Michael Henchard has the choir sing. The Choir Master says: 'I wasn't made for singing. We chose it once when the gypsy stole the parson's mare thinking to please him but parson were quite upset. Whatever Servant David were thinking about when h he made a Psalm that nobody can sing without disgracing hims I cannot fathom' Henchard is angry with Farfrae. Psalm 109 King James Version (KJV) 109 Hold not thy peace, O God of my praise; 2 For the mouth of the wicked and the mouth of the deceitful are opened against me: they have spoken against me with a lying tongue. 3 They compassed me about also with words of hatred; and fought against me without a cause. 4 For my love they are my adversaries: but I give myself unto prayer. 5 And they have rewarded me evil for good, and hatred for my love. 6 Set thou a wicked man over him: and let Satan stand at his right hand. 7 When he shall be judged, let him be condemned: and let his prayer bec...

This is an ambitions web  site - which provides a list of writer's houses, book shops, libraries, events and literary tours. Covers a host of countries. I checked London and Dorchester and it is quite impressive in its coverage. However, the funcionality is a bit limited  not sure you could not get all that information by googling. Dorchester - Literary Tourist

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...