Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect

by William Barnes

An', zays she, "I don't ceäre if they do."

Now vor me I can zing in my business abrode,

Though the storm do beät down on my poll,

There's a wife-brighten'd vier at the end o' my road,

An' her love vor the jaÿ o' my soul.

Out o' door I wi' rogues mid be tried:

Out o' door be brow-beäten wi' pride;

Men mid scowl out o' door, if my wife is but true—

Let em scowl, "I don't ceäre if they do."