The Love Child

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Where the bridge out at Woodley did stride,
Wi' his wide arches' cool she'ded 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 de'sies, a-spread in a sheet.
There a quick-tripp'n ma'd come along,
Aye, a girl wi' her light-stepp'n veet.


An' she cried "I do pra', is the road
Out to Lincham on here, by the me'd?"
An' "oh! ees," I me'de answer, an' show'd
Her the way it would turn an' would le'd:
"Goo along by the beech in the nook,
Where the children do pla' in the cool,
To the stepp'n 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' che'ks up so red
As a pi'ny le'te a-come out,
"No, I liv'd wi' my uncle that died
Back in E'pril, 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 ashe'med that I wanted know
Any more of her childhood or life
But then, why should so fe'ir a child grow
Where no father did bide wi' his wife;
Then wi' blushes of zunris'n 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 me'de me a'most teary-ey'd,
An' I vound I a'most could ha' groan'd
What! so winn'n, 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!

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