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 | The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown |  |
And then the coolin' of the mornin' air,
And things goin' a seein' everywhere,
And the crow of the cock, and the stir of the cows,
And the dead white light on the front of the house—
Aw, they do'n' like that! aw no they do'n'!
Aw, bless ye! it's just about time to be go'n'
Then; but still you'll not be off
Till she shuts the window; and often enough
It'll be broad day in the garden there,
And she'll see you, if you can't see her.
So mind you'll be smart—d'ye hear me, you sir?
Just take my word—it'll be well to do ser.
And things goin' a seein' everywhere,
And the crow of the cock, and the stir of the cows,
And the dead white light on the front of the house—
Aw, they do'n' like that! aw no they do'n'!
536
Then; but still you'll not be off
Till she shuts the window; and often enough
It'll be broad day in the garden there,
And she'll see you, if you can't see her.
So mind you'll be smart—d'ye hear me, you sir?
Just take my word—it'll be well to do ser.
| The Collected Poems of T. E. Brown | |