Arthur Quiller-Couch, comp. The Oxford Book of Victorian Verse. 1922.
The Head-stoneWilliam Barnes (18011886)
A
In Grenley church-yard all aluone,
A little mâid runn’d up wi’ pride
To zee me there, an’ push’d a-zide
A bunch o’ bennits that did hide
A vess her faether, as she zed,
Put up above her mother’s head,
To tell how much ’e lov’d her.
I stood an’ larn’d en off by heart:—
‘Mid God, dear Miary, gi’e me griace
To vind, lik’ thee, a better pliace,
Wher I oonce muore mid zee thy fiace;
An’ bring thy childern up to know
His word, that th mid come an’ show
Thy soul how much I lov’d thee.’
‘Dead, too,’ she nswer’d wi’ a smile;
‘An’ I an’ brother Jim da bide
At Betty White’s, o’ t’other zide
O’ road.’ ‘Mid He, my chile,’ I cried,
‘That ’s faether to the faetherless,
Become thy faether now, an’ bless,
An’ keep, an’ leäd, an’ love thee.’
Still He don’t let the thoughts ’t touch
Her litsome heart by day ar night;
An’ zoo, if we cood tiake it right,
Da show He’ll miake his burdens light
To weaker souls, an’ that his smile
Is sweet upon a harmless chile,
When th be dead that lov’d it.