With wild honey!--Rench my hair
In the dew! and hold my coat!
Whoop out loud! and th'ow my hat!--
June wants me, and I'm to spare!
Spread them shadders anywhere,
I'll git down and waller there,
And obleeged to you at that!





SEPTEMBER DARK


I


The air falls chill;
The whippoorwill
Pipes lonesomely behind the hill:
The dusk grows dense,
The silence tense;
And lo, the katydids commence.


II


Through shadowy rifts