|
Classic and Contemporary Poetry
GETTING STOUT, by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND First Line: Eighteen, an' face lak de - w'at 's de good Last Line: Some funny t'ing -- you can't tell! | |||
EIGHTEEN, an' face lak de -- w'at's de good? Dere's no use tryin' explain De way she's lookin', dat girl Marie -- But affer it pass, de rain, An' sun come out of de cloud behin', An' laugh on de sky wance more -- Wall! dat is de way her eye it shine W'en she see me upon de door. An' dere she's workin' de ole-tam sash, De fines' wan, too, for sure. "Who is it for, ma belle Marie -- You're makin' de nice ceinture? Come out an' sit on de shore below, For watchin' dem draw de net, Ketchin' de feesh," an' she answer, "No, De job is n't finish yet; "Stan' up, Narcisse, an' we'll see de fit. Dat sash it was mak' for you, For de ole wan's gettin' on, you know, An' o' course it'll never do If de boy I marry can't go an spen' W'at dey're callin' de weddin' tour Wit' me, for visitin' all hees frien', An' not have a nice ceinture." An' den she measure dat sash on me, An' I fin' it so long an' wide I pass it aroun' her, an' dere we stan', De two of us bote inside -- "Couldn't be better, ma chere Marie, Dat sash it is fit so well -- It jus' suit you, an' it jus' suit me, An' bote togeder, ma belle." So I wear it off on de weddin' tour An' long affer dat also, An' never a minute I'm carin' how De win' of de winter blow -- Don't matter de cloe an' frosty night -- Don't matter de stormy day, So long as I'm feex up close an' tight Wit' de ole ceinture fleche. An' w'ere's de woman can beat her now, Ma own leetle girl Marie? For we're marry to-day jus' feefty year An' never a change I see -- But wan t'ing strange, dough I try ma bes' For measure dat girl wance more, She say -- "Go off wit' de foolishness, Or pass on de outside door. "You know well enough dat sash get tight Out on de snow an' wet Drivin' along on ev'ry place, Den how can it fit me yet? Shows w'at a fool you be, Narcisse, W'enever you go to town; Better look out, or I call de pries' For makin' you stan' aroun'." But me, I'm sure it was never change, Dat sash on de feefty year -- An' I can't understan' to-day at all, W'at's makin' it seem so queer -- De sash is de sam', an' woman too, Can't fool me, I know too well -- But woman, of course dey offen do Some funny t'ing -- you can't tell! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...A RAINY DAY IN CAMP by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND AUTUMN DAYS by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BARBOTTE (BULL-POUT) by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BATEESE AND HIS LITTLE DECOYS by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BATEESE THE LUCKY MAN by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BLOOM - A SONG OF COBALT by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BOULE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND BRUNO THE HUNTER by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND CANADIAN FOREVER by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND CAUDA MORRHUAE by WILLIAM HENRY DRUMMOND |
|