The Stage Coach

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Ah! when the wold vo'k went abroad
  They thought it vast enough,
  If vow'r good ho'ses beät the road
  Avore the coach's ruf;
  An' there they zot,
  A-cwold or hot,
  An' roll'd along the ground,
  While the whip did smack
  On the ho'ses' back,
  An' the wheels went swiftly round, Good so's;
  The wheels went swiftly round.

  Noo iron raïls did streak the land
  To keep the wheels in track.
  The coachman turn'd his vow'r-in-hand,
  Out right, or left, an' back;
  An' he'd stop avore
  A man's own door,
  To teäke en up or down:
  While the reïns vell slack
  On the ho'ses' back,
  Till the wheels did rottle round ageän;
  Till the wheels did rottle round.

  An' there, when wintry win' did blow,
  Athirt the plaïn an' hill,
  An' the zun wer peäle above the snow,
  An' ice did stop the mill,
  They did laugh an' joke
  Wi' cwoat or cloke,
  So warmly roun' em bound,
  While the whip did crack
  On the ho'ses' back,
  An' the wheels did trundle round, d'ye know;
  The wheels did trundle round.

  An' when the rumblèn coach did pass
  Where hufflèn winds did roar,
  They'd stop to teäke a warmèn glass
  By the sign above the door;
  An' did laugh an' joke
  An' ax the vo'k
  The miles they wer vrom town,
  Till the whip did crack
  On the ho'ses back,
  An' the wheels did truckle roun', good vo'k;
  The wheels did truckle roun'.

  An' gaïly rod wold age or youth,
  When zummer light did vall
  On woods in leaf, or trees in blooth,
  Or girt vo'ks parkzide wall.
  An' they thought they past
  The pleäces vast,
  Along the dousty groun',
  When the whip did smack
  On the ho'ses' back,
  An' the wheels spun swiftly roun'. Them days
  The wheels spun swiftly roun'.

© William Barnes