The Love Child

Where the bridge out at Woodley did stride, Wi' his wide arches' cool sheded bow, Up above the clear brook that did slide By the poppies, befoam'd white as snow; As the gilcups did quiver among The white desies, a-spread in a sheet. There a quick-trippn mad come along, Aye, a girl wi' her light-steppn veet. An' she cried "I do pra, is the road Out to Lincham on here, by the med?" An' "oh! ees," I mede answer, an' show'd Her the way it would turn an' would led: "Goo along by the beech in the nook, Where the children do pla in the cool, To the steppn stwones over the brook, Aye, the grey blocks o' rock at the pool." "Then you don't seem a-born an' a-bred," I spoke up, "at a place here about;" And she answer'd wi' cheks up so red As a pi'ny lete a-come out, "No, I liv'd wi' my uncle that died Back in Epril, an' now I'm a-come Here to Ham, to my mother, to bide, Aye, to her house to vind a new hwome." I'm ashemed that I wanted know Any more of her childhood or life But then, why should so feir a child grow Where no father did bide wi' his wife; Then wi' blushes of zunrisn morn, She replied "that it midden be known, "Oh! they zent me awa to be born, Aye, they hid me when some would be shown." Oh! it mede me a'most teary-ey'd, An' I vound I a'most could ha' groan'd What! so winnn, an' still cast azide What! so lovely, an' not to be own'd; Oh! a God-gift a-treated wi' scorn Oh! a child that a squier should own; An' to zend her awa to be born! Aye, to hide her where others be shown!