Good Meäster Collins by William Barnes

Aye, Meäster Collins wer a-blest
Wi’ greäce, an’ now’s a-gone to rest;
An’ though his heart did beät so meek
‘S a little child’s, when he did speak,
The godly wisdom ov his tongue
Wer dew o’ greäce to wold an’ young.
‘Twer woonce, upon a zummer’s tide,
I zot at Brookwell by his zide,
Avore the leäke, upon the rocks,
Above the water’s idle shocks,
As little plaÿsome weäves did zwim
Ageän the water’s windy brim,
Out where the lofty tower o’ stwone
Did stan’ to years o’ wind an’ zun;
An’ where the zwellèn pillars bore
A pworch above the heavy door,
Wi’ sister sheädes a-reachèn cool
Athirt the stwones an’ sparklèn pool.
I spoke zome word that meäde en smile,
O’ girt vo’k’s wealth an’ poor vo’k’s tweil,
As if I pin’d, vor want ov greäce,
To have a lord’s or squier’s pleäce.
“No, no,” he zaid, “what God do zend
Is best vor all o’s in the end,
An’ all that we do need the mwost
Do come to us wi’ leäst o’ cost;–
Why, who could live upon the e’th
‘Ithout God’s gïft ov aïr vor breath?
Or who could bide below the zun
If water didden rise an’ run?
An’ who could work below the skies
If zun an’ moon did never rise?
Zoo aïr an’ water, an’ the light,
Be higher gifts, a-reckon’d right,
Than all the goold the darksome claÿ
Can ever yield to zunny daÿ:
But then the aïr is roun’ our heads,
Abroad by day, or on our beds;
Where land do gi’e us room to bide,
Or seas do spread vor ships to ride;
An’ He do zend his waters free,
Vrom clouds to lands, vrom lands to sea:
An’ mornèn light do blush an’ glow,
‘Ithout our tweil–‘ithout our ho.
“Zoo let us never pine, in sin,
Vor gifts that ben’t the best to win;
The heaps o’ goold that zome mid pile,
Wi’ sleepless nights an’ peaceless tweil;
Or manor that mid reach so wide
As Blackmwore is vrom zide to zide,
Or kingly swaÿ, wi’ life or death,
Vor helpless childern ov the e’th:
Vor theäse ben’t gifts, as He do know,
That He in love should vu’st bestow;
Or else we should have had our sheäre
O’m all wi’ little tweil or ceäre.
“Ov all His choicest gifts, His cry
Is, ‘Come, ye moneyless, and buy.’
Zoo blest is he that can but lift
His prayer vor a happy gift.”

—————

The End

And that’s the End of the Poem

© Poetry Monster, 2021.

Poems by topic and subject.

Poetry Monster — the ultimate repository of world poetry.

Poetry Monster — the multilingual library of poetic works. Here you’ll find original poems, poetry translations, ancient verses, ballads and even folk tales.

Poetry Monster (or even The Poetry Monster) — is also an international multilingual community of poets and poetry connoisseurs. Join us:

Register.

Some external links: The Bat’s Poetry Cave. — Fledermaus’s poetry site. Talking Writing Monster. — the irreverent and irrelevant chatter on subjects both serious and not quite. A free for all board. You can scribble anything on it without registration (but it doesn’t let spammers in). You can even post your poems. Qwant.com. — a search engine from France. It’s an alternative because there are a few alternatives, like Bing, Duckduckgo, and Ecosia. And there is Yandex, the ultimate language-oriented search engine for the Russophone world. Commercial Links: Russian Commerce – the foreign trade assistance agency Other links: Poems and poetry in Russian (if you are reading this in English, as you obviously are, then you’d have to switch the language, the language switch is on the menu. More on languages)