(Words by Jesse Fauset)



On summer afternoons I sit

Quiescent by you in the park,

And idly watch the sunbeams gild

And tint the ash tree's bark.



Or else I watch the squirrles frisk

And chaffer in the grassy lane;

And all the while I mark your voice

Break with love and pain.



I know a woman who would give

Her chance of heaven to take my place;

To see the love-light in your eyes,

The love-glow on your face!



And there's a man whose lightest word

Can set my chilly blood afire;

Fulfillment of his least behest

Defines my life's desire.



But he will none of me. Nor I

Of you. Nor you of her. 'Tis said

the world is full of justs like these.

I wish that I were dead.