 | Poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne |  |
I'd like, indeed I'd like to know
Why sister Bell, who loved me so,
And used to pet me day and night,
And could not bear me out of sight,
Now always looks so cross and glum,
If to her side I chance to come,
When that great, gawky man is nigh;
I'd like to know the reason why?
Why sister Bell, who loved me so,
And used to pet me day and night,
And could not bear me out of sight,
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If to her side I chance to come,
When that great, gawky man is nigh;
I'd like to know the reason why?
That man! I hate him! yes, I do,
And, in my place, you'd hate him too.
At first, (his common name is John!)
He brought me boxes of bon bons,
With books, and dolls, and tiny rings,
And lots on lots of precious things,
And said, of all Miss Pontoon's girls,
Not one could match my flowing curls,
My rosy cheeks and rounded chin,
With one sly dimple nestling in.
But now, he seems so stern and high,
I scarce may catch his scornful eye,
While as for toys!—he has ceased to buy!
Tell me, who can, the reason why?
And, in my place, you'd hate him too.
At first, (his common name is John!)
He brought me boxes of bon bons,
With books, and dolls, and tiny rings,
And lots on lots of precious things,
And said, of all Miss Pontoon's girls,
Not one could match my flowing curls,
My rosy cheeks and rounded chin,
With one sly dimple nestling in.
But now, he seems so stern and high,
I scarce may catch his scornful eye,
While as for toys!—he has ceased to buy!
Tell me, who can, the reason why?
It's mean! dear me! I'm sure it's mean!
Did I not run a “go-between”
From him to sister Bell so long,
(Although I feared it might be wrong),
With sweetmeats, flowers, and scented notes,
Sealed by two doves with curving throats?
Of course I thought him kind and nice.
But now, he's cold as arctic ice!
And more than once I've heard him say,
“That chit's forever in the way!”
While Bell—she snaps! till I could cry.
Will no one tell the reason why?
Did I not run a “go-between”
From him to sister Bell so long,
(Although I feared it might be wrong),
With sweetmeats, flowers, and scented notes,
Sealed by two doves with curving throats?
Of course I thought him kind and nice.
But now, he's cold as arctic ice!
And more than once I've heard him say,
“That chit's forever in the way!”
While Bell—she snaps! till I could cry.
Will no one tell the reason why?
| Poems of Paul Hamilton Hayne | |