Page:Lyrics of Lowly Life Dunbar (1896).djvu/156



"Why, since you are so bold," she said,

"I doubt not you are highly bred,

So take me!" and the twain were wed,

Alack and well-a-day.

T's all a farce,—these tales they tell

About the breezes sighing,

And moans astir o'er field and dell,

Because the year is dying.

Such principles are most absurd,—

I care not who first taught 'em;

There's nothing known to beast or bird

To make a solemn autumn.

In solemn times, when grief holds sway

With countenance distressing,

You'll note the more of black and gray

Will then be used in dressing.