第51章 POEM: IN TROUBLE

It's all for nothing: I've lost him now.

I suppose it had to be;

But oh, I never thought it of him, Nor he never thought it of me.

And all for a kiss on your evening out, And a field where the grass was down . . .

And he 'as gone to God-knows-where, And I may go on the town.

The worst of all was the thing he said The night that he went away;

He said he'd 'a married me right enough If I hadn't 'a been so gay.

Me--gay! When I'd cried, and I'd asked him not, But he said he loved me so;

An' whatever he wanted seemed right to me . . .

An' how was a girl to know?

Well, the river is deep, and drowned folk sleep sound, An' it might be the best to do;

But when he made me a light-o'-love He made me a mother too.

I've had enough sin to last my time, If 'twas sin as I got it by, But it ain't no sin to stand by his kid And work for it till I die.

But oh! the long days and the death-long nights When I feel it move and turn, And cry alone in my single bed And count what a girl can earn To buy the baby the bits of things HE ought to ha' bought, by rights;

And wonder whether he thinks of Us . . .

And if he sleeps sound o' nights.