Page:The moods of Ginger Mick.djvu/81

 Rh An' as I looks at Rosie, dreamin' there, 'Er 'ead drops on 'er arms... I seems to wake; I sees the moonlight streamin' on 'er 'air; I 'ears 'er sobbin' like 'er 'eart ud break. An' me there, pryin' on 'er misery. "Gawstruth!" I sez, "This ain't no place fer me!"

On my tip-toes I sneaks the way I came— (The crook Chow fiddle ain't done yowlin' yet)— An' tho' I tells it to me bitter shame— I'm gittin' soft as 'ell—me eyes wus wet. An' that stern John, as I go moochin' by Serloots me wiv a cold, unfeelin' eye.

The fat ole Mother Moon she's got a 'eart. An' so I like to think, when she looks down Wiv 'er soft gaze upon some weepin' tart In bonzer gardens or the slums o' town; She soothes 'em, mother-like, wiv podgy 'ands, An' makes 'em dream agen uv peaceful lands.