The Castle Ruins
By William Barnes
A happy day at Whitsuntide,
As soon s the zun begun to vall,
We all strolld up the steep hill-zide
To Meldon, gret an small;
Out where the Castle wall stood high
A-mwoldren to the zunny sky.
An there wi Jenny took a stroll
Her youngest sister, Poll, so gay,
Bezide John Hind, ah! merry soul,
An mid her wedlock fay;
An at our zides did play an run
My little maid an smaller son.
Above the baten mwold upsprung
The driven doust, a-spreaden light,
An on the new-leavd thorn, a-hung,
Wer wool a-quivren white;
An corn, a-sheenen bright, did bow,
On slopen Meldons zunny brow.
There, down the roofless wall did glow
The zun upon the grassy vloor,
An weakly-wandren winds did blow,
Unhinderd by a door;
An smokeless now avore the zun
Did stan the ivy-girded tun.
My bwoy did watch the daws bright wings
A-flappen vrom their ivy bowrs;
My wife did watch my maids light springs,
Out here an there vor flowrs;
And John did zee noo towrs, the place
Vor him had only Pollys face.
An there, of all that pried about
The walls, I overlookd em best,
An what o that? Why, I made out
Noo mwore than all the rest:
That there wer woonce the nest of zome
That wer a-gone avore we come.
When woonce above the tun the smoke
Did wreathy blue among the trees,
An down below, the liven vok
Did tweil as brisk as bees:
Or zit wi weary knees, the while
The sky wer lightless to their tweil.