Page:Love Poems and Others.djvu/69

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I durstna kiss thee tha trembles so,
  Tha’rt frit o’ summat.
Tha arena very flig to go,
’Appen the mist from the thawin’ snow
Daunts thee—it isna for love, I know,
That tha’rt loath to go.
  —Dear o’ me, say summat.

Maun tha cling to the wa’ as tha goes,
  So bad as that?
Tha’lt niver get into thy weddin’ clothes
At that rate—eh, theer goes thy hat;
Ne’er mind, good-bye lad, now I lose
My joy, God knows,
  —An’ worse nor that.

The road goes under the apple tree;
  Look, for I’m showin’ thee summat.
An’ if it worn’t for the mist, tha’d see
The great black wood on all sides o’ thee
Wi’ the little pads going cunningly
To ravel thee.
  So listen, I’m tellin’ thee summat.

When tha comes to the beechen avenue,
  I’m warnin’ thee o’ summat.
Mind tha shall keep inwards, a few
Steps to the right, for the gravel pits
Are steep an’ deep wi’ watter, an’ you
Are scarce o’ your wits.
  Remember, I’ve warned thee o’ summat.

lvii.

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