Page:Backblock Ballads and Later Verses (C.J. Dennis, 1918).djvu/62

It's easy now fer folks to talk
    Who might 'ave done the same.
We meant no 'arm to anyone,
    An' 'Arry knew 'is game.
'Twas like a flash, the skid—the crash.
    An' we was not to blame.

I wisht I could shut out that sight;
    Fer git that awful row!
Poor Rose! 'Er face all chiner-white,
    Like I can see it now;
An' 'Arry like a heap o' clothes
    Jist chucked there any'ow.

They sez we painted Fernville red;
    They sez that we was gay;
But wot come after dulls me mind
    To wot them liars say.
We never dreamed of death an' 'ell
    When we set out that day.

'Twas ev'nin' when we turned for 'ome
    The moon shone full that night;
An' for a mile or more ahead
    The road lay gleamin' white;
An' Rose sat close a-side o' me,
    'Er face turned to the light.