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Paul Laurence Dunbar - Li`l` GalPaul Laurence Dunbar - Li`l` Gal
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Oh, de weathah it is balmy an` de breeze is sighin` low.           Li`l` gal,   An` de mockin` bird is singin` in de locus` by de do`,           Li`l` gal;   Dere `s a hummin` an` a bummin` in de lan` f`om eas` to wes`,   I `s a-sighin` fu` you, honey, an` I nevah know no res`.   Fu` dey `s lots o` trouble brewin` an` a-stewin` in my breas`,           Li`l` gal.   Whut `s de mattah wid de weathah, whut`s de mattah wid de breeze,           Li`l` gal?   Whut `s de mattah wid de locus` dat `s a-singin` in de trees,           Li`l` gal?   W`y dey knows dey ladies love `em, an` dey knows dey love `em true,   An` dey love `em back, I reckon, des` lak I `s a-lovin` you;   Dat `s de reason dey `s a-weavin` an` a-sighin`, thoo an` thoo,           Li`l` gal.   Don`t you let no da`ky fool you `cause de clo`es he waihs is fine,           Li`l` gal.   Dey `s a hones` hea`t a-beatin` unnerneaf dese rags o` mine,           Li`l` gal.   Cose dey ain` no use in mockin` whut de birds an` weathah do,   But I `s so`y I cain`t `spress it w`en I knows I loves you true,   Dat `s de reason I `s a-sighin` an` a-singin now fu` you,           Li`l` gal.
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