De Dog-Rose
See de pretty flow'r-tree blows,
Sendin' from de prickly branch
A lubly bunch o' red dog-rose.
An' de bunch o' crimson red,
Boastin' on de dark blue tree,
Meks it pretty, prettier yet
Jes' as dat dog-rose can be.
Young Miss Sal jes' come from school:
Freddy, fresh from groun' an' grub,
Pick de dog-rose off de tree,
Gib Miss Sal to prove his lub.
Then I watch on as dem kiss
Right aroun' de corner-stone,
An' my heart grow vex' fe see
How dem foolish when alone.
An' I listen to deir talk,
As dey say dey will be true;
"Eber true" I hear dem pledge,
An' dat naught can part dem two.
De petchary laugh an' jig,
Sittin' on a bamboo low;
Seems him guess, jes' like mese'f
How de whole t'ing gwin' fe go.
Time gwon, an' de rose is not:
I see Fred, wi' eyes all dim,
Huggin' up de corner-stone,
For his love has jilted him;
Left him for anedder man
Wid a pile o' money,
Dat he carried from his land
O' de Injin coney.
Wonder whe' de petchary?
De rose-tree is dead an' gone;
Sal sit in de big great-house,
Cooin' to her baby son.