In the common by our hwome
There wer freely-open room,
Vor our litty veet to roam
By the vuzzen out in bloom.
That wi’ prickles kept our lags
Vrom the skylark’s nest ov aggs;
While the peewit wheel’d around
Wi’ his cry up over head,
Or he sped, though a-limpen, o’er the ground.
There we heaerd the whickr’en meaere
Wi’ her vaice a-quiv’ren high;
Where the cow did loudly bleaere
By the donkey’s vallen cry.
While a-stoopen man did zwing
His bright hook at vuzz or ling
Free o’ fear, wi’ wellglov’d hands,
O’ the prickly vuzz he vell’d,
Then sweet-smell’d as it died in faggot bands.
When the hayward drove the stock
In a herd to zome oone pleaece,
Thither vo’k begun to vlock,
Each to own his beaestes feaece.
While the geese, bezide the stream,
Zent vrom gapen bills a scream,
An’ the cattle then avound,
Without right o’ greaezen there,
Went to bleaere bray or whicker in the pound.
The Driving of the Common was by the Hayward who, whenever he thought fit, would drive all the cattle into a corner and impound all heads belonging to owners without a right of commonage for them, so that they had to ransom them by a fine.
Other works by William Barnes...
