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Paul Laurence Dunbar - The Tryst
Work rating: Low

DE night creep down erlong de lan`,
De shadders rise an` shake,
De frog is sta`tin` up his ban`,
De cricket is awake;
My wo`k is mos` nigh done, Celes`, 
To-night I won`t be late,
I`s hu`yin` thoo my level bes`,
Wait fu` me by de gate.
De mockin`-bird`ll sen` his glee
A-thrillin` thoo and thoo,
I know dat ol` magnolia-tree
Is smellin` des` fu` you;
De jessamine erside de road
Is bloomin` rich an` white,
My hea`t`s a-th`obbin` `cause it knowed
You`d wait fu` me to-night.
Hit`s lonesome, ain`t it, stan`in` thaih
Wid no one nigh to talk?
But ain`t dey whispahs in de aih
Erlong de gyahden walk?
Don`t somep`n kin` o` call my name,
An` say "he love you bes`"?
Hit`s true, I wants to say de same,
So wait fu` me, Celes`.
Sing somep`n fu` to pass de time,
Outsing de mockin`-bird,
You got de music an` de rhyme,
You beat him wid de word.
I`s comin` now, my wo`k is done,
De hour has come fu` res`,
I wants to fly, but only run—
Wait fu` me, deah Celes`.
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