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Home  »  Poems of Places An Anthology in 31 Volumes  »  My Orchet in Linden Lea

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ed. Poems of Places: An Anthology in 31 Volumes.
England: Vols. I–IV. 1876–79.

Linden Lea

My Orchet in Linden Lea

By William Barnes (1801–1886)

Dorset Dialect

’ITHIN the woodlands, flow’ry gledaed,

By the woak tree’s mossy moot,

The sheenen grass-bleades, timber-sheaded,

Now do quiver under voot;

An’ birds do whissle auver head,

An’ water ’s bubblen in its bed,

An’ there vor me the apple tree

Do lean down low in Linden Lea.

When leaves that leately wer a-springen

Now do feade ’ithin the copse,

An’ painted birds do hush ther zingen

Up upon the timber’s tops,

An’ brown-leav’d fruit ’s a-turnen red,

In cloudless zunsheen, auver head,

Wi’ fruit vor me the apple tree

Do lean down low in Linden Lea.

Let other vo’k meake money vaster

In the air o’ dark-room’d towns,

I don’t dread a peevish measter;

Though noo man do heed my frowns,

I be free to goo abrode,

Or teake agean my hwomeward road

To where vor me the apple tree

Do lean down low in Linden Lea.