'You are old, Father William, and though one would think
All the veins in your body were dry,
'How did you rest, last night?'--
I've heard my gran'pap say
Them words a thousand times--that's right--
Jes them words thataway!
When she comes home again! A thousand ways
I fashion, to myself, the tenderness
Of my glad welcome: I shall tremble--yes;
When Bess gave her Dollies a Tea, said she,--
'It's unpolite, when they's Company,
To say you've drinked _two_ cups, you see,--
Jes' a little bit o' feller--I remember still--
Ust to almost cry fer Christmas, like a youngster will.
I hail thee, Nessmuk, for the lofty tone
Yet simple grace that marks thy poetry!
True forester thou art, and still to be,
Nothin' to say, my daughter! Nothin' at all to say!
Gyrls that's in love, I've noticed, ginerly has their way!
I caught, for a second, across the crowd--
Just for a second, and barely that--
A face, pox-pitted and evil-browed,
Once, in a dream, I saw a man
With haggard face and tangled hair,
The kind of a man for you and me!
He faces the world unflinchingly,
And smites, as long as the wrong resists,