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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357586" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Grey Thrush</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Grey thrush was in the wattle tree, an', 'Oh, you pretty dear!'<br>He says in his allurin' way; an' I remarks, 'Hear, hear!<br>That does me nicely for a start; but what do I say next?'<br>But then the Jacks take up the song, an' I get very vexed.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The thrush was in the wattle tree, an' I was underneath.<br>I'd put a clean white collar on, I'd picked a bunch of heath;<br>For I was cleaned an' clobbered up to meet my Nell that day.<br>But now my awful trouble comes: What is a man to say?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I mean to tell her all I've thought since first I saw her there,<br>On the bark-heap by the mill-shed, with the sunlight in her hair.<br>I mean to tell her all I've done an' what I'll do with life;<br>An', when I've said all that an' more, I'll ask her for my wife.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I mean to tell her she's too good, by far, for such as me,<br>An' how with lonely forest life she never may agree.<br>I mean to tell her lots of things, an' be reel straight an' fine;<br>And, after she's considered that, I'll ask her to be mine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I seen her by the sassafras, the sun was on her hair;<br>An' I don't know what come to me to see her standin' there.<br>I never even lifts my hat, I never says 'Good day'<br>To her that should be treated in a reel respectful way.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I only know the girl I want is standin' smilin' there<br>Right underneath the sassafras. I never thought I'd dare,<br>But I holds out my arms to her, an' says, as I come near<br>Not one word of that speech of mine—but, 'Oh, you pretty dear !'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It was enough. Lord save a man! It's simple if he knew,<br>There's one way with a woman if she loves you good an' true.<br>Next moment she is in my arms; an' me? I don't know where.<br>If Heaven can compare with it I won't fret much up there.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Why, Mister Jim,' she says to me. 'You're very bold,' says she.<br>'Yes, miss,' I says. Then she looks up—an' that's the end of me….<br>'O man !' she cries. 'O modest man, if you go on like this—'<br>But I interrupt a lady, an' I do it with a kiss.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Jim, do you know what heroes are?' says she, when I'd 'behaved.' <br>'Why, yes,' says I. 'They're blokes that save fair maids that won't be saved.'<br>'You're mine,' says she, an' smiles at me, 'an' will be all my life<br>That is, if it occurs to you to ask me for your wife.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"> <br>Grey thrush is in the wattle tree when I get home that day<br>Back to my silent, lonely house—an' still he sings away.<br>There is no other voice about, no step upon the floor;<br>An' none to come an' welcome me as I get to the door.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet in the happy heart of me I play at make-believe: <br>I hear one singin' in the room where once I used to grieve;<br>I hear a light step on the path, an', as I reach the gate,<br>A happy voice, that makes me glad, tells me I'm awful late.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Now what's a man to think of that, an' what's a man to say, <br>Who's been out workin' in the bush, tree-fallin', all the day?<br>An' how's a man to greet his wife, if she should meet him here ?<br>But Grey Thrush in the wattle tree says, 'Oh, you pretty dear !'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Clarence+Michael+James+Stanislaus+Dennis">Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=357586" data-title="Grey Thrush de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="Grey thrush was in the wattle tree, an', 'Oh, you pretty dear!'
He says in his allurin' way; an' I remarks, 'Hear, hear!
That does me nicely for a start; but what do I say next?'
But then the Jacks take up the song, an' I get very vexed.

The thru..."></div>
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