Yawcob Strauss and Other Poems/The Butcher's Courtship


 * "On, my Mary Ann," he side,
 * "Will you be my loving bride?
 * I cannot liver 'nother day without you.
 * Your bright smile lights up my heart,
 * Whisper yes, beefore we part,
 * And the tenderlines of love I'll cast about you!"


 * Then the rascal, growing bolder,
 * Drew her head upon his shoulder,
 * While the ribbones on her bonnet fluttered free,
 * And fore-quarter of an hour
 * They reclined within the bower,
 * And she promised him she ever true would be.


 * "Now," says he, " I must be goin'—
 * Don't you hear the cattle loin?
 * I can tarry here no longer, love, to-day;


 * You can steak a silver dollar
 * I shall be a steady caller;
 * Keep your pluck and spirits up while I'm away!"
 * Then he turned to cross a mead
 * Where the horned cattle feed,


 * And wasn't paying very much attention
 * To the gender of the herd,
 * When there suddenly occurred
 * An accident he fain would never mention.


 * He chanced to look a round,
 * When towards him, with a bound,
 * Came their masculine protector o'er the lea;
 * And so brisket seemed to him
 * That his chance was rather slim
 * To flank him, or to even shin a tree.


 * He was bull dosed, so to speak,
 * Sorely rumpled, cowed and weak,
 * And will steer hereafter clear from bulls and cows.
 * The tail, alas! is sad;


 * Would'st shun a bull that's mad?
 * Then beware the quick contraction of his browse!