Poems (Chitwood)/You would not Know Me Now

by Mary Louisa Chitwood

YE WOULD NOT KNOW ME NOW.

Ah Jamie, dear Jamie,
 Ye would not know me now;
There is no rose on my sunken check,
 No light locks on my brow;
Were ye raised up from the cold, damp grave,
 To gaze on me once more,
Ye would not know your bride, Jamie,
 Your bonny bride of yore.

Al Jamie, my Jamie,
 As I sit in my lonely room,
And toil and toil, and stitch and stitch,
 Till the night wears by in gloom,
I often sigh, as I wipe my tears,
 And rest my aching brow;
Were ye raised up from the chilly grave,
 Ye would not know me now.

Ah Jamie, best Jamie,
 I lull our babes to sleep
With a low, sad strain, and my loving heart
 How it throbs to hear them weep;
They are thin and pale for the want of bread,
 And a flush is on each brow;
Ye would not know your own sick babes,
 And ye would not know me now.

Ah Jamie, dear Jamie,
 Our cot in the mossy vale,
I visit it oft in my soft, sweet dreams,
 And cull the cowslips pale,
And see the pansy's dewy lips,
 And hear thy love's first vow:
But why should the wretched dream of joy,
 Thou art gone forever, now.

Ah Jamie, my Jamie,
 It is hard to toil for bread,
I never dreamed in my girlhood hours
 To live when thou wert dead.
I never dreamed of this lonely room,
 And the clods upon thy brow;
Were ye raised up from the chilly grave,
 Ye would not know me now.

Ah Jamie, dear Jamie,
 The light fades from mine eye;
Sometimes I faint, in my gloomy hours,
 And fear that I must die:
"Twould be a sweet rest with thee, dear,
 With the dust o'er heart and brow,
But who would care for our babes, Jamie,
 They've none beside me now.

Ah Jamie, my Jamie,
 The world is dark and drear,
Only the sound of the city hum
 Comes to my lonely car;
And I crush the sobs in my throbbing heart,
 And kiss each baby brow,
And say, and say, in a whisper soft,
 "Ye would not know me now."