ll'd,
Then sweet-smell'd as it died in faggot bands.

When the hayward drove the stock
In a herd to zome oone pleaece,
Thither vo'k begun to vlock,
Each to own his beaestes feaece.
While the geese, bezide the stream,
Zent vrom gapen bills a scream,
An' the cattle then avound,
Without right o' greaezen there,
Went to bleaere bray or whicker in the pound.

[Footnote B: The Driving of the Common was by the _Hayward_ who,
whenever he thought fit, would drive all the cattle into a corner and
impound all heads belonging to owners without a right of commonage for
them, so that they had to ransom them by a fine.]

THE COMMON A-TOOK IN.

Oh! no, Poll, no! Since they've a-took
The common in, our lew wold nook
Don't seem a-bit as used to look
When we had runnen room;
Girt banks do shut up ev'ry drong,
An' stratch wi' thorny backs along
Where we did use to run among
The vuzzen an' the broom.

Ees; while the ragged colts did crop
The nibbled grass, I used to hop
The emmet-buts, vrom top to top,
So proud o' my spry jumps:
Wi' thee behind or at my zide,
A-skippen on so light an' wide
'S thy little frock would let thee stride,
Among the vuzzy humps.

Ah while the lark up over head
Did twitter, I did search the red
Thick bunch o' broom, or yollow bed
O' vuzzen vor a nest;
An' thou di'st hunt about, to meet
Wi' strawberries so red an' sweet,
Or clogs or shoes off hosses veet,
Or wild thyme vor thy breast;

Or when the cows did run about
A-stung, in zummer, by the stout,
Or when they play'd, or when they foueght,
Di'st stand a-looken on:
An' where white geese, wi' long red bills,
Did veed among the emmet-hills,
There we did goo to vind their quills
Alongzide o' the pon'.

What fun there wer among us, when
The hayward come, wi' all his men,
To dreve the common, an' to pen
Strange cattle in the pound;
The cows did bleaere, the men did shout
An' toss their eaerms an' sticks about,
An' vo'ks, to own their stock, come out
Vrom all the housen round.

A WOLD FRIEND.

Oh! when the friends we us'd to know,
'V a-been a-lost vor years; an' when
Zome happy day do come, to show
Their feaezen to our eyes ageaen,
Do meaeke us look behind, John,
Do bring wold times to mind, John,
Do meaeke hearts veel, if they be steel,
All warm, an' soft, an' kind, John.

When