THE MULBERRY TREE

It’s many’s the scenes which is dear to my mind
As I think of my childhood so long left behind;
The home of my birth, with it’s old puncheon-floor,
And the bright morning-glories that growed round the door;
The warped clab-board roof whare the rain it run off
Into streams of sweet dreams as I laid in the loft,
Countin’ all of the joys that was dearest to me,
And a-thinkin’ the most of the mulberry tree.

And to-day as I dream, with both eyes wide-awake,
I can see the old tree, and its limbs as they shake,
And the long purple berries that rained on the ground
Whare the pastur’ was bald whare we trommpt it around. 
And again, peekin’ up through the thick leafy shade,
I can see the glad smiles of the friends when I strayed
With my little bare feet from my own mother’s knee
To foller them off to the mulberry tree.

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Leanin’ up in the forks, I can see the old rail,
And the boy climbin’ up it, claw, tooth, and toe-nail,
And in fancy can hear, as he spits on his hands,
The ring of his laugh and the rip of his pants. 
But that rail led to glory, as certin and shore
As I’ll never climb thare by that rout’ any more—­
What was all the green lauruls of Fame unto me,
With my brows in the boughs of the mulberry tree!

Then it’s who can fergit the old mulberry tree
That he knowed in the days when his thoughts was as free
As the flutterin’ wings of the birds that flew out
Of the tall wavin’ tops as the boys come about? 
O, a crowd of my memories, laughin’ and gay,
Is a-climbin’ the fence of that pastur’ to-day,
And, a-pantin’ with joy, as us boys ust to be,
They go racin’ acrost fer the mulberry tree.

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FOR YOU

For you, I could forget the gay
  Delirium of merriment,
And let my laughter die away
  In endless silence of content. 
    I could forget, for your dear sake,
    The utter emptiness and ache
    Of every loss I ever knew.—­
    What could I not forget for you?

I could forget the just deserts
  Of mine own sins, and so erase
The tear that burns, the smile that hurts,
  And all that mars or masks my face. 
    For your fair sake I could forget
    The bonds of life that chafe and fret,
    Nor care if death were false or true.—­
    What could I not forget for you?

What could I not forget?  Ah me! 
  One thing, I know, would still abide
Forever in my memory,
  Though all of love were lost beside—­
    I yet would feel how first the wine
    Of your sweet lips made fools of mine
    Until they sung, all drunken through—­
    “What could I not forget for you?”

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