---

James Whitcomb Riley - Nothin` To Say
Work rating: Low

Nothin` to say, my daughter! Nothin` at all to say!
Gyrls that`s in love, I`ve noticed, ginerly has their way!
Yer mother did, afore you, when her folks objected to me--
Yit here I am, and here you air; and yer mother--where is she?

You look lots like yer mother: Purty much same in size;
And about the same complected; and favor about the eyes:
Like her, too, about _livin_` here,--because _she_ couldn`t stay:
It`ll `most seem like you was dead--like her!--But I hain`t got nothin` to say!

She left you her little Bible--writ yer name acrost the page--
And left her ear bobs fer you, ef ever you come of age.
I`ve allus kep` `em and gyuarded `em, but ef yer goin` away--
Nothin` to say, my daughter! Nothin` at all to say!

You don`t rikollect her, I reckon? No; you wasn`t a year old then!
And now yer--how old _air_ you? W`y, child, not "_twenty_!" When?
And yer nex` birthday`s in Aprile? and you want to git married that day?
... I wisht yer mother was livin`!--But--I hain`t got nothin` to say!

Twenty year! and as good a gyrl as parent ever found!
There`s a straw ketched onto yer dress there--I`ll bresh it off--turn round.
(Her mother was jes` twenty when us two run away!)
Nothin` to say, my daughter! Nothin` at all to say!
Source
The script ran 0.005 seconds.