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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
“He loves you dearly.” “Who loves me?” says Nelly,
“Who loves me?” and up with the head like a filly,
Like sniffin' the wind—they're splendid craythurs
Is them, lek accordin' to their nathurs,
Splendid—like sniffin'—“Who loves me? who?”
So the misthress tould her. “Aw, that'll do!”
Says Nelly—and a little laugh—and she says,
“I think I'll go now, ma'am, if you plase;
If you plase, ma'am, I'll be goin', I think”—
And the misthress felt her heart go sink—
But held on, for her sowl was cravin' to her,
This Nelly, the very first minute she saw her,
For she saw that she was the rael stuff,
That's it! and no matter for the huff—
Huffed! but wasn' it like prent,
The beautiful and the innocent?
The sweet and the true? But—whether or not—
Chut! the misthress loved her like a shot—
And how to save her? She seen the sowl
Was trimblin' all over, for she couldn' hould,
No matter the huffed—aw, hard to hide!
Love is a stronger thing than pride.
“Who loves me?” and up with the head like a filly,
Like sniffin' the wind—they're splendid craythurs
Is them, lek accordin' to their nathurs,
Splendid—like sniffin'—“Who loves me? who?”
288
Says Nelly—and a little laugh—and she says,
“I think I'll go now, ma'am, if you plase;
If you plase, ma'am, I'll be goin', I think”—
And the misthress felt her heart go sink—
But held on, for her sowl was cravin' to her,
This Nelly, the very first minute she saw her,
For she saw that she was the rael stuff,
That's it! and no matter for the huff—
Huffed! but wasn' it like prent,
The beautiful and the innocent?
The sweet and the true? But—whether or not—
Chut! the misthress loved her like a shot—
And how to save her? She seen the sowl
Was trimblin' all over, for she couldn' hould,
No matter the huffed—aw, hard to hide!
Love is a stronger thing than pride.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |