AW, Billy, good sowl! don't cuss! don't cuss! Ye see, these angels is grand to nuss; And it's lek they're feedin' them on some nice air, Or dew or the lek, that's handy there, O Billy, look at my poor poor bress! O Billy, see the full it is! But . . . O my God! . . . but navar mind! There's no doubt them sperrits is very kind -- And of coorse they're that beautiful it's lekly The childher is takin to them directly -- Eh, Billy, eh? . . . And . . . O my head! Billy, Billy, come to bed! . . . And the little things that navar knew sin -- And everything as nate as a pin: And the lovely bells goin' ding-a-lingin' -- And of coorse we've allis heard of their singin'. But won't he want me when he'll be wakin'? Will they take him up when he's wantin' takin'? I hope he'll not be left in the dark -- He was allis used to make a wark If a body'd lave him the smallest minute -- Dear me! the little linnet -- But I forgot -- it's allis light In yandhar place . . . All right! all right! I forgot, ye see, . . . I'm not very well . . . @3Light@1, was I sayin'? but who can tell? Bad for the eyes, though . . . but a little curtain On a string, ye know -- aw certain! certain! Let me feel your face, Billy! Jus' us two! Aw, Billy, the sorry I am for you! Aw 'deed it is, Billy, -- very disthressin' To lave your childher to another pessin -- But . . . all the little rooms that's theer -- And Jesus walkin' up the steer, And tappin' lek -- I see! I see! -- O Jesus Christ, have pity on me! But He'll come, He'll come! He'll give a look Jus' to see the care that's took -- O! there's no doubt He's very gud -- O, I think He wud, I think He wud! But still . . . but still . . . but I don't know . . . O Billy! I think I'd like to go -- What's that, Billy? did ye hear a cry? O Illiam, the sweet it'd be to die! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WHEN LOVE WAS BORN by SARA TEASDALE THE SWORD AND THE SICKLE by WILLIAM BLAKE THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 12 by THOMAS CAMPION LOVE AND AGE by THOMAS LOVE PEACOCK THE WALLABOUT MARTYRS by WALT WHITMAN SEVEN SAD SONNETS: 3. THE WANDERING ONE by MARY REYNOLDS ALDIS SLEEPING AND WAKING by JANE BARLOW |