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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=358020" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Wooer</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I nearly fell fair in my tracks.<br>I'm trudgin' homeward with my axe<br>When I come on her suddenly.<br>'I wonder if I'm lost?' says she.<br>'It's risky on such roads as this.'<br>I lifts my hat an' says, 'Yes, miss.'<br>I knew 'twas rude for me to stare,<br>But, oh, that sunlight in her hair!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'I wonder if I'm lost? says she,<br>An' gives a smile that staggers me.<br>'An' yet, it wouldn't matter much<br>Supposing that I was, with such<br>A glorious green world about,<br>With bits of blue sky peepin' out.<br>Do you think there will be a fog?'<br>'No, miss,' says I, an' pats my dog.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Oh, what a dear old dog!' says she.<br>'Most dogs are pretty fond of me.'<br>She calls him to her, an' he goes.<br>(He didn't find it hard, I s'pose;<br>I know I wouldn't if she called.)<br>'It's wondrous how the tracks are walled<br>With these great trees that touch the sky<br>On either side.' 'Yes, miss,' says I.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She fondles my old dog a bit;<br>I wait to make a bolt for it.<br>(There ain't no call to stand an' talk<br>With one who'd be too proud to walk<br>A half-a-yard with such as me.)<br>'The wind keeps workin' up,' says she.<br>'Yes, miss,' says I, an' lifts me hat.<br>An' she just let's it go at that.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She let me reach the dribblin' ford -<br>That day to me it fairly roared.<br>(At least, that's how the thing appears;<br>But blood was poundin' in my ears.)<br>She waits till I ahve fairly crossed:<br>'I thought I told I was lost?'<br>She cries. 'An' you go walkin' off,<br>Quite scornful, like some proud bush toff!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">She got me thinkin' hard with that.<br>'Yes, miss,' I says, an' lifts my hat.<br>But she just waits there on the track,<br>An' lets me walk the whole way back.<br>'An' are you reely lost?' says I.<br>'Yes, sir,' says she an' drops her eye. . . <br>I wait, an' wait for what seems days;<br>But not another word she says.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I pats my dog, an' lifts my hat;<br>But she don't seem to notice that.<br>I looks up trees an' stares at logs,<br>An' long for twenty hats an' dogs.<br>'The weather's kept reel good to-day,'<br>I blurts at last. Say she, 'Hurray!'<br>'Hurray!' she says, an' then, 'Encore!'<br>An' gets me wonderin' what for.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Is this the right road to 'The Height?''<br>I tell her it's the road, all right,<br>But that the way she's walkin' ain't.<br>At that she looked like she would faint.<br>'Then I was lost if I had gone<br>Along this road an' walked right on <br>An unfrequented bush track, too!<br>How fortunate that I met you!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Yes, miss,' I says. 'Yes - what?' says she.<br>Says I, 'Most fortunate . . . for me.'<br>I don't know where I found the pluck<br>To blurt that out an' chance my luck.<br>'You'll walk,' she says, 'a short way back,<br>So you can put me on the track?'<br>'I'll take you all the way,' says I,<br>An' looks her fair bang in the eye.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Later, I let myself right out,<br>An' talked: an' told her all about<br>The things I've done, an' what I do,<br>An' nearly all I'm hopin' to.<br>Told why I chose the game I'm at<br>Because my folks were poor, an' that.<br>She seemed reel pleased to hear me talk,<br>An' sort of steadied up the walk.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">An' when I'd spoke my little bit,<br>She just takes up the thread of it;<br>An' later on, near knocks me down<br>By tellin' me she works - in town.<br>Works? her? I thought, the way she dressed,<br>She was quite rich; but she confessed<br>That makin' dresses was her game,<br>An' she was dead sick of the same.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">When Good bye came, I lifts my hat;<br>But she holds out her hand at that.<br>I looked at mine, all stained with sap,<br>An' told her I'm a reel rough chap.<br>'A worker's hand,' says she, reel fine,<br>'An' marked with toil; but so is mine.<br>We're just two toilers; let us shake,<br>An' be good friends - for labour's sake.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I didn't care to say no more,<br>For fear of what she'd take me for <br>But just Good bye, an' turns away,<br>Bustin' with things I had to say.<br>I don't know how I got right home.<br>The wonder was I didn't roam<br>Off in the scrub, an' dream out there<br>Of her with sunlight in her hair.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">At home I looks around the place,<br>An' sees the dirt a fair disgrace;<br>So takes an' tidies up a bit,<br>An' has a shave; an' then I sit<br>Beside my fire to have a think.<br>But my old dog won't sleep a wink;<br>He fools, an' whines, an' nudges me,<br>Then all at once I thinks of tea.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">I beg his pardon wiht a smile,<br>An'. talkin' to him all the while,<br>I get it ready, tellin' him<br>About that girl; but, 'Shut up, Jim!'<br>he says to me as plain as plain.<br>'First have some food, an' then explain.'<br>(I don't know how she came to tell,<br>But I found out her name is Nell.)</div><div style="margin:10px 0">We gets our bit to eat at last.<br>(An', just for spite, he et his fast) . . .<br>I think that Nell's a reel nice name . . .<br>'All right, old dog, I ain't to blame<br>If you' . . . Just as I go to sup<br>My tea I stop dead, with my cup<br>Half up, an' . . . By the Holy Frost!<br>I wonder was Nell reely lost?</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=358020" data-title="The Wooer de Clarence Michael James Stanislaus Dennis" data-description="I nearly fell fair in my tracks.
I'm trudgin' homeward with my axe
When I come on her suddenly.
'I wonder if I'm lost?' says she.
'It's risky on such roads as this.'
I lifts my hat an' says, 'Yes, miss.'
I knew 'twas rude for me to stare,
But, oh,..."></div>
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