It follows up the hill and down -- The road that takes me into town; And, oh, it's many lads I meet With smiles and glances bold or sweet; Eyes that are blue maybe, or black -- But I am never smiling back. I have to hold my tongue and go As prim as if I didn't know. Ah, dear, it's hard -- this being good -- I don't like doing what I should. My basket's always heavy, too -- I need a man's strong arm, I do! I wonder why there's any harm, When all the air's so kind and warm, When smiling lads swing down the road And ask to help me with my load, In smiling back at them again -- Not every time, but now and then? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CONTRA MORTEM: THE STONE by HAYDEN CARRUTH SANDHILL PEOPLE by CARL SANDBURG A BALLADE OF SUICIDE by GILBERT KEITH CHESTERTON ESTONIAN BRIDAL SONG by JOHANN GOTTFRIED VON HERDER FALSTAFF'S SONG by EDMUND CLARENCE STEDMAN SIX TOWN ECLOGUES: SATURDAY; THE SMALL-POX by MARY WORTLEY MONTAGU |