Fatherhood
Let en zit, wi' his dog an' his cat,Wi' their noses a-turn'd to the vier,An' have all that a man should desire;But there idden much reaedship in that.Whether vo'k mid have childern or no,Wou'dden meaeke mighty odds in the main;They do bring us mwore jay wi' mwore ho,An' wi' nwone we've less jay wi' less painWe be all lik' a zull's idle sheaere out,An' shall rust out, unless we do wear out,Lik' do-nothen, rue-nothen,Dead alive dumps.
As vor me, why my life idden boundTo my own heart alwone, among men;I do live in myzelf, an' ageaenIn the lives o' my childern all round:I do live wi' my bwoy in his play,An' ageaen wi' my maid in her zongs;An' my heart is a-stirr'd wi' their jay,An' would burn at the zight o' their wrongs.I ha' nine lives, an' zoo if a halfO'm do cry, why the rest o'm mid laughAll so playvully, jayvully,Happy wi' hope.
Tother night I come hwome a long road,When the weather did sting an' did vreeze;An' the snow--vor the day had a-snow'd--Wer avroze on the boughs o' the trees;An' my tooes an' my vingers wer num',An' my veet wer so lumpy as logs,An' my ears wer so red's a cock's cwom';An' my nose wer so cwold as a dog's;But so soon's I got hwome I vorgotWhere my limbs wer a-cwold or wer hot,When wi' loud cries an' proud criesThey coll'd me so cwold.
Vor the vu'st that I happen'd to meetCome to pull my girtcwoat vrom my eaerm,An' another did rub my feaece warm,An' another hot-slipper'd my veet;While their mother did cast on a stick,Vor to keep the red vier alive;An' they all come so busy an' thickAs the bees vlee-en into their hive,An' they meaede me so happy an' proud,That my heart could ha' crow'd out a-loud;They did tweil zoo, an' smile zoo,An' coll me so cwold.
As I zot wi' my teacup, at rest,There I pull'd out the tays I did bring;Men a-kicken, a-wagg'd wi' a string,An' goggle-ey'd dolls to be drest;An' oh! vrom the childern there sprungSuch a charm when they handled their tays,That vor pleasure the bigger woones wrungTheir two hands at the zight o' their jays;As the bwoys' bigger vaices vell inWi' the maidens a-titteren thin,An' their dancen an' prancen,An' little mouth's laughs.
Though 'tis hard stripes to breed em all up,If I'm only a-blest vrom above,They'll meaeke me amends wi' their love,Vor their pillow, their pleaete, an' their cup;Though I shall be never a-spweil'dWi' the sarvice that money can buy;Still the hands ov a wife an' a childBe the blessens ov low or ov high;An' if there be mouths to be ved,He that zent em can zend me their bread,An' will smile on the chileThat's a-new on the knee.
Words in this poem
- odds n.
- Difference in favor of one and against another; excess of one of two things or numbers over the other; inequality; advantage; superiority; hence, excess of chances; probability. [See Odd, a.]
- shall v. i.
- To owe; to be under obligation for. [OE. shal, schal, imp. sholde, scholde, AS. scal, sceal, I am obliged, imp. scolde, sceolde, inf. sculan; akin to OS. skulan, pres. skal, imp. skolda, D. zullen,]
- lumpy a.
- Full of lumps, or small compact masses.
- teacup n.
- A small cup from which to drink tea.
- bigger a.
- , compar. of Big.
- vell n.
- The salted stomach of a calf, used in making cheese; a rennet bag. [Cf. L. vellus the skin of a sheep with the wool on it, a fleece, a hide or pelt, or E. fell a hide.]
Definitions and etymologies from Webster's Unabridged Dictionary, 1913.
About this text
Fatherhood is in the public domain. This text is taken from Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect, Project Gutenberg ebook #21785; the transcription's header, footer and licence were removed and nothing else was changed. You may copy, print and reuse it freely.
Cite as: William Barnes, Fatherhood, in Poems of Rural Life in the Dorset Dialect (1844–1862), text of Project Gutenberg ebook #21785, Laurel, https://laurelpoetry.com/poem/barnes-dorset/fatherhood.html, id L02166.
Form and metre
Fatherhood is 72 lines in 6 stanzas of 12 lines each. The metre is anapaestic trimeter, measured from the stress the words themselves fix (confidence 84%). 99% of its stressed syllables fall where the metre puts the beat. The lines average 8.4 syllables. 1 line ends on an unstressed syllable, a feminine ending. 21% of the lines run on without a stop at the line end.
See other poems in anapaestic trimeter.
Measured by Laurel's pipeline, not copied from a handbook: how stress and metre are counted, how rhyme is lettered, how a drifted rhyme is found. Where the dictionary cannot confirm a rhyme the letter is withheld, not guessed.
Rhyme words, stanza by stanza
The word that ends each line, lettered by the rhyme it makes; a dash is a line whose rhyme the dictionary could not confirm.
- 1 A--ABCBCDD-- catA · vier · desire · thatA · noB · mainC · hoB · painC · outD · outD · nothen · dumps
- 2 A--ABCBCDD-- boundA · men · ageaen · roundA · playB · zongsC · jayB · wrongsC · halfD · laughD · jayvully · hope
- 3 ABAB-C-CDD-- roadA · vreezeB · snow'dA · treesB · num · logsC · cwom · dog'sC · vorgotD · hotD · cries · cwold
- 4 ABBACDCDEE-- meetA · eaermB · warmB · veetA · stickC · aliveD · thickC · hiveD · proudE · loudE · zoo · cwold
- 5 ABBACDCDEE-- restA · bringB · stringB · drestA · sprungC · taysD · wrungC · jaysD · inE · thinE · prancen · laughs
- 6 ABBACDCD---D upA · aboveB · loveB · cupA · spweil'dC · buyD · childC · highD · ved · bread · chile · kneeD
Scansion, line by line
Each line with its syllable count and the stresses the words themselves fix: / stressed, ˘ unstressed, · a syllable the word leaves free and the metre decides. Read against anapaestic trimeter. How this is done.
| Line | Syl. | Stress |
|---|---|---|
| Let en zit, wi' his dog an' his cat, | 9 | ········· |
| Wi' their noses a-turn'd to the vier, | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| An' have all that a man should desire; | 9 | ·······˘/ |
| But there idden much reaedship in that. | 9 | ········· |
| Whether vo'k mid have childern or no, | 9 | ········· |
| Wou'dden meaeke mighty odds in the main; | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| They do bring us mwore jay wi' mwore ho, | 9 | ········· |
| An' wi' nwone we've less jay wi' less pain | 9 | ········· |
| We be all lik' a zull's idle sheaere out, | 10 | ······/˘·· |
| An' shall rust out, unless we do wear out, | 10 | ·········· |
| Lik' do-nothen, rue-nothen, | 7 | ······· |
| Dead alive dumps. | 4 | ·˘/· |
| As vor me, why my life idden bound | 9 | ········· |
| To my own heart alwone, among men; | 9 | ········· |
| I do live in myzelf, an' ageaen | 9 | ········· |
| In the lives o' my childern all round: | 9 | ········· |
| I do live wi' my bwoy in his play, | 9 | ········· |
| An' ageaen wi' my maid in her zongs; | 9 | ········· |
| An' my heart is a-stirr'd wi' their jay, | 9 | ········· |
| An' would burn at the zight o' their wrongs. | 9 | ········· |
| I ha' nine lives, an' zoo if a half | 9 | ········· |
| O'm do cry, why the rest o'm mid laugh | 9 | ········· |
| All so playvully, jayvully, | 8 | ········ |
| Happy wi' hope. | 4 | /˘·· |
| Tother night I come hwome a long road, | 9 | ········· |
| When the weather did sting an' did vreeze; | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| An' the snow--vor the day had a-snow'd-- | 9 | ········· |
| Wer avroze on the boughs o' the trees; | 9 | ········· |
| An' my tooes an' my vingers wer num', | 9 | ········· |
| An' my veet wer so lumpy as logs, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| An' my ears wer so red's a cock's cwom'; | 9 | ········· |
| An' my nose wer so cwold as a dog's; | 9 | ········· |
| But so soon's I got hwome I vorgot | 9 | ········· |
| Where my limbs wer a-cwold or wer hot, | 9 | ········· |
| When wi' loud cries an' proud cries | 7 | ······· |
| They coll'd me so cwold. | 5 | ····· |
| Vor the vu'st that I happen'd to meet | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Come to pull my girtcwoat vrom my eaerm, | 9 | ········· |
| An' another did rub my feaece warm, | 9 | ·˘/˘····· |
| An' another hot-slipper'd my veet; | 9 | ·˘/˘····· |
| While their mother did cast on a stick, | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| Vor to keep the red vier alive; | 8 | ······˘/ |
| An' they all come so busy an' thick | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| As the bees vlee-en into their hive, | 9 | ········· |
| An' they meaede me so happy an' proud, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| That my heart could ha' crow'd out a-loud; | 9 | ········· |
| They did tweil zoo, an' smile zoo, | 7 | ······· |
| An' coll me so cwold. | 5 | ····· |
| As I zot wi' my teacup, at rest, | 9 | ·····/··· |
| There I pull'd out the tays I did bring; | 9 | ········· |
| Men a-kicken, a-wagg'd wi' a string, | 9 | ········· |
| An' goggle-ey'd dolls to be drest; | 8 | ·/˘····· |
| An' oh! vrom the childern there sprung | 8 | ········ |
| Such a charm when they handled their tays, | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| That vor pleasure the bigger woones wrung | 9 | ··/˘·/˘·· |
| Their two hands at the zight o' their jays; | 9 | ········· |
| As the bwoys' bigger vaices vell in | 9 | ···/˘···· |
| Wi' the maidens a-titteren thin, | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| An' their dancen an' prancen, | 7 | ······· |
| An' little mouth's laughs. | 5 | ·/˘·· |
| Though 'tis hard stripes to breed em all up, | 9 | ········· |
| If I'm only a-blest vrom above, | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| They'll meaeke me amends wi' their love, | 8 | ···˘/··· |
| Vor their pillow, their pleaete, an' their cup; | 9 | ··/˘····· |
| Though I shall be never a-spweil'd | 8 | ····/˘·· |
| Wi' the sarvice that money can buy; | 9 | ·····/˘·· |
| Still the hands ov a wife an' a child | 9 | ········· |
| Be the blessens ov low or ov high; | 9 | ········· |
| An' if there be mouths to be ved, | 8 | ········ |
| He that zent em can zend me their bread, | 9 | ········· |
| An' will smile on the chile | 7 | ·····/˘ |
| That's a-new on the knee. | 6 | ······ |
The reader shows the same poem with its rhymes coloured and a stress row above each line, the notes beside their stanzas, and any word's definition on a tap; the analysis page takes the whole book apart. How every part of this site was made.