Welcoming Hærfest (Harvest/Fall) - 2016

‘Fall Time’

By Rev William Barnes of Dorset, England

The gather’d clouds, a-hangèn low,
    Do meäke the woody ridge look dim; 
An’ raïn-vill’d streams do brisker flow,
    Arisèn higher to their brim. 
In the tree, vrom lim’ to lim’,
             Leaves do drop   
Vrom the top, all slowly down,
Yollow, to the gloomy groun’.

The rick’s a-tipp’d an’ weather-brown’d,
    An’ thatch’d wi’ zedge a-dried an’ dead; 
An’ orcha’d apples, red half round,
    Have all a-happer’d down, a-shed 
Underneath the trees’ wide head.
            Ladders long,   
Rong by rong, to clim’ the tall
Trees, be hung upon the wall.

The crumpled leaves be now a-shed
    In mornèn winds a-blowèn keen; 
When they wer green the moss wer dead,
    Now they be dead the moss is green. 
Low the evenèn zun do sheen
             By the boughs,   
Where the cows do swing their taïls
Over the merry milkers’ païls.

Source:  https://en.wikisource.org/wiki/Poems_of_Rural_Life_in_the_Dorset_Dialect/Fall_Time, accessed 23 Sept. 2016

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Holy Ælfred the Great, King of England, South Patron, pray for us sinners at the South!

Anathema to the Union!