And now with eager semi-sight
Vast joy I find
To think a child can share with me
Earth ecstasy!
Delight of dawn with dewy gleam
On damask rose;
Crimson and gold as pennons stream
Where sunset flows;
And sight most nigh to paradise,
Star-studded skies.
Ah! How in old of age I feel,
E’er end my days,
Could I star-splendoured sky reveal
To childish gaze,
Not one eye would I give, but two,–
Well, wouldn’t you?
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Because back home in Tennessee
They made a sniper outa meAn’ ninety krouts I got:I wish to Christ I’d not!Athinkin’ o’ them blasted livesIt’s kindo’ blue I be;Them lads no doubt had kids an’ wivesAn’ happy home like me:Them stiffs I still can see.Aye, ninety men or more my handHas hustled down to hell;They’ve loaded me with medals andThey tell…
I pawned my sick wife’s wedding ring,
I got the most that it would bring,Of golden coins the very least.With stealth into her room I creptAnd stole it from her as she slept.I do not think that she will know,As in its place I left a bandOf brass that has a brighter glowAnd gleamed upon her withered hand.I do not think that…
That Tom was poor was sure a pity,
He took to Greek like babe to titty,And he was mathematic mad.I loved to prime him up with knowledge,A brighter lad I never knew;I dreamed that he would go to collegeAnd there be honoured too.But no! His Dad said, ‘Son, I need youTo keep the kettle on the boil;No longer can I clothe and feed…
Aye, Montecelli, that’s the name.
Yet though he never savoured fame,Of those impressionistic chaps,Monet and Manet and RenoirHe was the avatar.He festered in a Marseilles slum,A starving genius, god-inspired.You’d take him for a lousy bum,Tho’ poetry of paint he lyred,In dreamy pastels each a gem: . . .How people laughed at them!He peddled paint from bar to bar;From sordid rags…
But yesterday I banked on fistic fame,
Today I’ve half a mind to quit the Game,For all them rosy dreams have taken wing,Since last night a secondary boutI let a goddam nigger knock me out.It must have been that T-bone steak I ate;They might have doped it, them smart gambling guys,For round my heart I felt a heavy weight,A stab of pain…
If the good King only knew,
What a cherub child are you,It is true,He would step down from his throne,And would claim you for his own,Then whatever would I do,Lindy Lou?As I kiss your tiny feet,Lindy Lou,I just feel I want to eatAll of you.What’s so heaven-sweet and mildAs a happy baby-child?If you died I would die too,Lindy Lou?What’s so lovely…