 | The Writings of Bret Harte |  |
315
IMPORTANT MEXICAN CORRESPONDENCE
AN INTERCEPTED LETTER
Dear Trem:—
From “orange groves and fields of balm”
These loving lines I send,
But first you really ought to know
The feelings of your friend.
These loving lines I send,
But first you really ought to know
The feelings of your friend.
For when it 's winter where you live,
The weather here 's like June;
The “Season's Choir” Thomson sings,
In fact, is out of tune.
The weather here 's like June;
The “Season's Choir” Thomson sings,
In fact, is out of tune.
All day at ninety-eight degrees
The mercury has stood,
Without a figure I may say,
I'm “in a melting mood.”
The mercury has stood,
Without a figure I may say,
I'm “in a melting mood.”
The fields are parched and so 's my lips—
I quaff at every spring;
So dry a “summer,” Trem, my dear,
“Two swallows” could not bring.
I quaff at every spring;
So dry a “summer,” Trem, my dear,
“Two swallows” could not bring.
You know “two swallows do not make
It summer”—but methinks
The summer in this latitude
Is made of many drinks.
It summer”—but methinks
The summer in this latitude
Is made of many drinks.
The politics, I grieve to say,
I find in great confusion—
For like the earth the people have
A daily revolution.
I find in great confusion—
For like the earth the people have
A daily revolution.
316
Their manners to a stranger here,
Is stranger yet to see;
Last night in going to a ball
A ball went into me.
Is stranger yet to see;
Last night in going to a ball
A ball went into me.
I 'm fond of reading, as you know,
But then it was a sin
To be obliged against my will,
To take a Bullet-in.
But then it was a sin
To be obliged against my will,
To take a Bullet-in.
They cried, “DIOS Y LIBERTAD!”
And then pitched into me;
I hate to hear a sacred name
Used with such “liberty.”
And then pitched into me;
I hate to hear a sacred name
Used with such “liberty.”
I should have said to you before,
But every method fails,
For since they have impressed the men,
Of course, they 've stopped the males.
But every method fails,
For since they have impressed the men,
Of course, they 've stopped the males.
| The Writings of Bret Harte | |