After The Accident Poem by Francis Bret Harte

After The Accident



(MOUTH OF THE SHAFT)

What I want is my husband, sir,--
And if you're a man, sir,
You'll give me an answer,--
Where is my Joe?

Penrhyn, sir, Joe,--
Caernarvonshire.
Six months ago
Since we came here--
Eh?--Ah, you know!

Well, I am quiet
And still,
But I must stand here,
And will!
Please, I'll be strong,
If you'll just let me wait
Inside o' that gate
Till the news comes along.

'Negligence!'--
That was the cause!--
Butchery!
Are there no laws,--
Laws to protect such as we?

Well, then!
I won't raise my voice.
There, men!
I won't make no noise,
Only you just let me be.

Four, only four--did he say--
Saved! and the other ones?--Eh?
Why do they call?
Why are they all
Looking and coming this way?

What's that?--a message?
I'll take it.
I know his wife, sir,
I'll break it.
'Foreman!'
Ay, ay!
'Out by and by,--
Just saved his life.
Say to his wife
Soon he'll be free.'
Will I?--God bless you!
It's me!

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