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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=413328" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Farmer's Daughter Cherry</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Farmer quit what he was at,<br>The bee-hive he was smokin':<br>He tilted back his old straw hat--<br>Says he, 'Young man, you're jokin'!<br>O Lordy! (Lord, forgive the swar,)<br>Ain't ye a cheeky sinner?<br>Come, if I give my gal thar,<br>Where would _you_ find her dinner?</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Now look at _me_; I settl'd down<br>When I was one and twenty,<br>Me, and my axe and Mrs. Brown,<br>And stony land a plenty.<br>Look up thar! ain't that homestead fine,<br>And look at them thar cattle:<br>I tell ye since that early time<br>I've fit a tidy battle.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'It kinder wrestles down a man<br>To fight the stuns and mire:<br>But I sort of clutch'd to thet thar plan<br>Of David and Goliar.<br>Want was the mean old Philistine<br>That strutted round the clearin',<br>Of pebbles I'd a hansum line,<br>And flung 'em nothin' fearin'.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'They hit him square, right whar they ought,<br>Them times I _had_ an arm!<br>I lick'd the giant and I bought<br>A hundred acre farm.<br>My gal was born about them days,<br>I was mowin' in the medder;<br>When some one comes along and says--<br>'The wife's gone thro' the shadder!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Times thought it was God's will she went--<br>Times thought she work'd too slavin'--<br>And for the young one that was sent,<br>I took to steady savin'.<br>Jest cast your eye on that thar hill<br>The sugar bush just tetches,<br>And round by Miller Jackson's mill,<br>All round the farm stretches.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">''Ain't got a mind to give that land<br>To any snip-snap feller<br>That don't know loam from mud or sand,<br>Or if corn's blue or yaller.<br>I've got a mind to keep her yet--<br>Last Fall her cheese and butter<br>Took prizes; sakes! I can't forget<br>Her pretty pride and flutter.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Why, you be off! her little face<br>For me's the only summer;<br>Her gone, 'twould be a queer, old place,<br>The Lord smile down upon her!<br>All goes with her, the house and lot--<br>You'd like to get 'em, very!<br>I'll give 'em when this maple bears<br>A bouncin' ripe-red cherry!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Farmer fixed his hat and specks<br>And pursed his lips together,<br>The maple wav'd above his head,<br>Each gold and scarlet feather:<br>The Teacher's Honest heart sank down:<br>How could his soul be merry?<br>He knew--though teaching in a town,<br>No maple bears a cherry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Soft blew the wind; the great old tree,<br>Like Saul to David's singing,<br>Nodded its jewelled crown, as he<br>Swayed to the harp-strings' ringing;<br>A something rosy--not a leaf<br>Stirs up amid the branches;<br>A miracle _may_ send relief<br>To lovers fond and anxious!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O rosy is the velvet cheek<br>Of one 'mid red leaves sitting!<br>The sunbeams played at hide-and-seek<br>With the needles in her knitting.<br>'O Pa!' The Farmer prick'd his ears,<br>Whence came that voice so merry?<br>(The Teacher's thoughtful visage clears)<br>'The maple bears a cherry!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Farmer tilted back his hat:<br>'Well, gal--as I'm a human,<br>I'll always hold as doctrine that<br>Thar's nothin' beats a woman!<br>When crown'd that maple is with snow,<br>And Christmas bells are merry,<br>I'll let you have her, Jack--that's so!<br>Be sure you're good to Cherry!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Isabella+Valancy+Crawford">Isabella Valancy Crawford</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=413328" data-title="The Farmer's Daughter Cherry de Isabella Valancy Crawford" data-description="The Farmer quit what he was at,
The bee-hive he was smokin':
He tilted back his old straw hat--
Says he, 'Young man, you're jokin'!
O Lordy! (Lord, forgive the swar,)
Ain't ye a cheeky sinner?
Come, if I give my gal thar,
Where would _you_ find he..."></div>
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