Beneath the Yampy Shade

We sit beneat’ de yampy shade, My lee sweetheart an’ I; De gully ripples ’cross de glade, Tom Rafflins hurry by. Her pa an’ ma about de fiel’ Are brukin’ sugar-pine; An’ plenty, plenty is de yiel’, Dem look so pink an’ fine. We listen to a rapturous chune Outpourin’ from above; De swee-swees, blithesome birds of June, They sing to us of love. She plays wid de triangle leaves, Her hand within mine slips; She murmurs love, her bosom heaves, I kiss her ripe, ripe lips. De cockstones raise deir droopin’ heads To view her pretty feet; De skellions trimble in deir beds, Dey grudge our lub so sweet— Love sweeter than a bridal dream, A mudder’s fondest kiss; Love purer than a crystal stream, De height of eart’ly bliss. We hear again de swee-swees’ song Outpourin’ on de air; Dey sing for yout’, an’ we are young An’ know naught ’bouten care. We sit beneat’ de yampy shade, We pledge our hearts anew; De swee-swees droop, de bell-flowers fade Before our love so true.