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Paul Laurence Dunbar - The Disturber
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Oh, what shall I do? I am wholly upset;
  I am sure I `ll be jailed for a lunatic yet.
  I `ll be out of a job--it`s the thing to expect
  When I `m letting my duty go by with neglect.
  You may judge the extent and degree of my plight
  When I `m thinking all day and a-dreaming all night,
  And a-trying my hand at a rhyme on the sly,
  All on account of a sparkling eye.

  There are those who say men should be strong, well-a-day!
  But what constitutes strength in a man? Who shall say?
  I am strong as the most when it comes to the arm.
  I have aye held my own on the playground or farm.
  And when I `ve been tempted, I haven`t been weak;
  But now--why, I tremble to hear a maid speak.
  I used to be bold, but now I `ve grown shy,
  And all on account of a sparkling eye.

  There once was a time when my heart was devout,
  But now my religion is open to doubt.
  When parson is earnestly preaching of grace,
  My fancy is busy with drawing a face,
  Thro` the back of a bonnet most piously plain;
  `I draw it, redraw it, and draw it again.`
  While the songs and the sermon unheeded go by,--
  All on account of a sparkling eye.

  Oh, dear little conjurer, give o`er your wiles,
  It is easy for you, you`re all blushes and smiles:
  But, love of my heart, I am sorely perplexed;
  I am smiling one minute and sighing the next;
  And if it goes on, I `ll drop hackle and flail,
  And go to the parson and tell him my tale.
  I warrant he `ll find me a cure for the sigh
  That you `re aye bringing forth with the glance of your eye.
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