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My Sweet Brown Gal

Paul Laurence Dunbar

W’en de clouds is hangin’ heavy in de sky,
An’ de win’s ’s a-taihin’ moughty vig’rous by,
I don’ go a-sighin’ all erlong de way;
I des’ wo’k a-waitin’ fu’ de close o’ day.

Case I knows w’en evenin’ draps huh shadders down,
I won’ care a smidgeon fu’ de weathah’s frown;
Let de rain go splashin’, let de thundah raih,
Dey ’s a happy sheltah, an’ I ’s goin’ daih.

Down in my ol’ cabin wa’m ez mammy’s toas’,
‘Taters in de fiah layin’ daih to roas’;
No one daih to cross me, got no talkin’ pal,
But I ’s got de comp’ny o’ my sweet brown gal.

So I spen’s my evenin’ listenin’ to huh sing,
Lak a blessid angel; how huh voice do ring!
Sweetah den a bluebird flutterin’ erroun’,
W’en he sees de steamin’ o’ de new ploughed groun’.

Den I hugs huh closah, closah to my breas’.
Need n’t sing, my da’lin’, tek you’ hones’ res’.
Does I mean Malindy, Mandy, Lize er Sal?
No, I means my fiddle-dat’s my sweet brown gal!
Online text © 1998-2009 Poetry X. All rights reserved.
From The Complete Poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar | Dodd, Mead And Company, 1922
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