 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
SUE.
In good old Brantford village, when
I ran around a lad of ten,
There was no boy or girl but knew,
Pitied and loved old Crazy Sue.
Her elf-locks white, her withered face,
Her downcast glance, her mincing pace—
I seem to see them clearly now,
When age's wrinkles seam the brow,
As in my boyish days, and hear,
As then, her voice in treble clear
Pipe out the words: “Oh! happy me,
The day when John comes back from sea!”
I ran around a lad of ten,
There was no boy or girl but knew,
Pitied and loved old Crazy Sue.
Her elf-locks white, her withered face,
Her downcast glance, her mincing pace—
I seem to see them clearly now,
When age's wrinkles seam the brow,
237
As then, her voice in treble clear
Pipe out the words: “Oh! happy me,
The day when John comes back from sea!”
Scarce forty years before, 'twould seem,
Her beauty was the village theme—
Eyes with a deeper shade than blue,
Tinged with the pansy's purple hue;
Locks falling in a waving fold,
In shadow fawn, in sunlight gold;
Skin where the blushes' restless stream
With rose hues flushed the tint of cream;
A form that was as lithe and free
As in the breeze the willow tree;
And with them all sweet winning ways—
Such Crazy Sue in early days.
Her beauty was the village theme—
Eyes with a deeper shade than blue,
Tinged with the pansy's purple hue;
Locks falling in a waving fold,
In shadow fawn, in sunlight gold;
Skin where the blushes' restless stream
With rose hues flushed the tint of cream;
A form that was as lithe and free
As in the breeze the willow tree;
And with them all sweet winning ways—
Such Crazy Sue in early days.
She loved—but that's a tale as old
As when the earth knew age of gold;
She loved, and thought him man of men;
She loved, and was beloved again.
A handsome sailor came to woo,
And won the heart of pretty Sue,
Who vowed to be his wife when he
Came back from off the Indian Sea.
They parted; ere a year had flown
She found her truth survived alone;
A richer bride her John had wed
Out in Calcutta, shipmates said.
As when the earth knew age of gold;
She loved, and thought him man of men;
She loved, and was beloved again.
A handsome sailor came to woo,
And won the heart of pretty Sue,
Who vowed to be his wife when he
Came back from off the Indian Sea.
They parted; ere a year had flown
She found her truth survived alone;
A richer bride her John had wed
Out in Calcutta, shipmates said.
In perilous state for many a day,
'Twixt life and death the maiden lay.
At length came back, the struggle o'er,
Her life; but reason nevermore.
She quite forgot her lover's wrong,
Her faith she kept within her strong,
And waited patient, long and fond,
His coming from the far beyond.
In life she toiled for others' weal,
Her woe forgot, or could not feel,
And constant said: “Oh! happy me,
The day when John comes back from sea!”
'Twixt life and death the maiden lay.
At length came back, the struggle o'er,
Her life; but reason nevermore.
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Her faith she kept within her strong,
And waited patient, long and fond,
His coming from the far beyond.
In life she toiled for others' weal,
Her woe forgot, or could not feel,
And constant said: “Oh! happy me,
The day when John comes back from sea!”
Henceforth all Brantford surely knew
The mission meant for Crazy Sue;
To every hut where want was found
She with her basket went around;
Where'er the sick in anguish lay
She tender nursed them day by day;
At every needy creature's call,
She shared her substance with them all;
But spoke not, save one sentence, which
Kept John an idol in a niche
For her to worship, waiting when
He'd come to her from sea again.
The mission meant for Crazy Sue;
To every hut where want was found
She with her basket went around;
Where'er the sick in anguish lay
She tender nursed them day by day;
At every needy creature's call,
She shared her substance with them all;
But spoke not, save one sentence, which
Kept John an idol in a niche
For her to worship, waiting when
He'd come to her from sea again.
She seemed as happy as a queen—
(But are queens happy?) never seen
To show a frown, or drop a tear;
And, though her brain were far from clear,
Perhaps that gave her sorrow rest—
God knows; he knows all things the best;
And all things loved her, brute and man!
The little children to her ran;
The birds, when she threw crumbs of bread,
Came fearless to her feet and fed.
Even the starveling, homeless cur,
Who shrank from others, followed her.
(But are queens happy?) never seen
To show a frown, or drop a tear;
And, though her brain were far from clear,
Perhaps that gave her sorrow rest—
God knows; he knows all things the best;
And all things loved her, brute and man!
The little children to her ran;
The birds, when she threw crumbs of bread,
Came fearless to her feet and fed.
Even the starveling, homeless cur,
Who shrank from others, followed her.
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They missed her from the street one day,
And found her where at home she lay,
Dying alone. The people heard,
Their hearts with tender pity stirred,
Their gentle hands her pillow smoothed,
Their kindly words her anguish soothed;
And, waiting words of hers to show
If reason had returned or no,
They heard her say before her death,
With tremulous voice and struggling breath,
Yet joyous tone: “Ah, happy me!
John has at last come back from sea!”
And found her where at home she lay,
Dying alone. The people heard,
Their hearts with tender pity stirred,
Their gentle hands her pillow smoothed,
Their kindly words her anguish soothed;
And, waiting words of hers to show
If reason had returned or no,
They heard her say before her death,
With tremulous voice and struggling breath,
Yet joyous tone: “Ah, happy me!
John has at last come back from sea!”
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |