Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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“CRAB” JEAN. |
Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | ||
“CRAB” JEAN.
Jean is leggy and lanky
And cross-made and cranky,
And never content;
On her sorrowful face
Sits the sourest grimace,
And she's never unbent.
O she looks as if dug out of earth and still dusty
With darkness and stains
And the mould that remains—
Which no doubt makes her still more distempered and crusty;
She can't help being mean,
Just because she's “Crab” Jean.
And cross-made and cranky,
And never content;
On her sorrowful face
Sits the sourest grimace,
And she's never unbent.
O she looks as if dug out of earth and still dusty
With darkness and stains
And the mould that remains—
474
She can't help being mean,
Just because she's “Crab” Jean.
Jean is ruffled and rumpled
And crookèd and crumpled,
And whining all day;
Fond of sitting alone
With a stick or a stone,
And not seen once to play.
For her parents both gamble and guzzle like fishes—
They throw chairs about
And then keep her without,
And when they have done eating she licks the bare dishes;
So she is very lean,
Wretched hungry “Crab” Jean.
And crookèd and crumpled,
And whining all day;
Fond of sitting alone
With a stick or a stone,
And not seen once to play.
For her parents both gamble and guzzle like fishes—
They throw chairs about
And then keep her without,
And when they have done eating she licks the bare dishes;
So she is very lean,
Wretched hungry “Crab” Jean.
Jean is toppled and tumbled
Around, and has stumbled
Along through the years;
Sorrow is her black bread,
And there's grey on her head
And her cup has been tears.
Ah, she is all great eyes that look harried and haunted
With watching and care,
And their pitiful stare
Turns away to dead walls as afraid to be taunted;
And she never was clean,
But she's only “Crab” Jean.
Around, and has stumbled
Along through the years;
Sorrow is her black bread,
And there's grey on her head
And her cup has been tears.
Ah, she is all great eyes that look harried and haunted
With watching and care,
And their pitiful stare
Turns away to dead walls as afraid to be taunted;
And she never was clean,
But she's only “Crab” Jean.
Jean is dreary and draggles
Her limbs, as she straggles
Through darkness and strife;
Peering out, with dim gaze,
On the hubbub and haze
Of inscrutable life.
For she feels a blind creature that frets at its muzzle,
And draws a long chain
Of oppression and pain,
And tries idly to break the still-deepening puzzle;
O what angel will wean,
From her troubles, “Crab” Jean?
Her limbs, as she straggles
Through darkness and strife;
Peering out, with dim gaze,
On the hubbub and haze
Of inscrutable life.
For she feels a blind creature that frets at its muzzle,
And draws a long chain
Of oppression and pain,
475
O what angel will wean,
From her troubles, “Crab” Jean?
Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold | ||