Volume I Part 67 (1/2)
DA LEETLA BOY
Da spreeng ees com'; but oh, da joy Eet ees too late!
He was so cold, my leetla boy, He no could wait.
I no can count how manny week, How manny day, dat he ees seeck; How manny night I seet an' hold Da leetla hand dat was so cold.
He was so patience, oh, so sweet!
Eet hurts my throat for theenk of eet; An' all he evra ask ees w'en Ees gona com' da spreeng agen.
Wan day, wan brighta sunny day, He see, across da alleyway, Da leetla girl dat's livin' dere Ees raise her window for da air, An' put outside a leetla pot Of--w'at-you-call?--forgat-me-not.
So smalla flower, so leetla theeng!
But steell eet mak' hees hearta seeng: ”Oh, now, at las', ees com' da spreeng!
Da leetla plant ees glad for know Da sun ees com' for mak' eet grow.
So, too, I am grow warm and strong.”
So lika dat he seeng hees song.
But, ah! da night com' down an' den Da weenter ees sneak back agen, An' een da alley all da night Ees fall da snow, so cold, so white, An' cover up da leetla pot Of--w'at-you-call?--forgat-me-not.
All night da leetla hand I hold Ees grow so cold, so cold, so cold!
Da spreeng ees com'; but, oh, da joy Eet ees too late!
He was so cold, my leetla boy, He no could wait.
Thomas Augustin Daly [1871-
ON THE MOOR
I I met a child upon the moor A-wading down the heather; She put her hand into my own, We crossed the fields together.
I led her to her father's door-- A cottage midst the clover.
I left her--and the world grew poor To me, a childless rover.
II I met a maid upon the moor, The morrow was her wedding.
Love lit her eyes with lovelier hues Than the eve-star was shedding.
She looked a sweet good-bye to me, And o'er the stile went singing.
Down all the lonely night I heard But bridal bells a-ringing.
III I met a mother on the moor, By a new grave a-praying.
The happy swallows in the blue Upon the winds were playing.
”Would I were in his grave,” I said, ”And he beside her standing!”
There was no heart to break if death For me had made demanding.
Cale Young Rice [1872-