Read "Walled out or, Eschatology in a Bog" by Jane Barlow online for free on Textopian. Full text with search, annotations, highlights, and AI-powered reading aids.
I
In last September it was, whin the weather'll be mostly grand, Wid the sunshine turnin' the colour o' corn all over the land, An' the two young gintlemen came to shoot wid their guns an' their dogs, A-thrampin' just for divarsion about the hills an' the bogs. And I thramped afther thim, tho' it's little divarsion I had, Carryin' the baskits an' all; but sure it's meself was glad To earn the shillin's at sunset, an' iligant loonch be the way; Mate, an' bread, an' a dhrop to dhrink -- ye needed no more that day. For, tho' 'twas thick o' the harvest, down here the bogs an' the hills Lave on'y narrow slips o' fields for the furrows an' pratie dhrills; Terrible quick they're raped an' dug; but what should the farmer do? If there's on'y work for wan, he can't find wages for two.