Kitty’s Going Home

Kitty is a pretty girl, Kitty is a witty girl, Kitty is a

      city girl,

            Kitty’s going home;

She’ll recall in days to come how she heard the partridge

      drum, how she heard the crickets hum

            Evenings in the gloam,

She’ll remember Jack and Ned; she’ll remember Will

      and Fred; she’ll remember all they said;

            It would fill a tome;

She’ll remember winding lanes; she’ll remember waving

      grains—pity, pity all her swains,

            Kitty’s going home.

She will think of drooping boughs, she will dream of

      wild-eyed cows and of romps in country mows;

            Kitty’s such a dear.

She’s somewhat of a coquette, laughing now, now in a

      pet, now with eyes tear-dimmed and wet;

            Laughter and a tear

In her moods do come and go, swinging, swinging to

      and fro, singing loud or weeping low,

            Moods are very near,

Near the surface, near her eyes, laughter, mockery, sur-

      mise to their limpid surface rise,

            Kitty is a dear.

Let her dreams of Jack and Ned, and remember Will

      and Fred, bless her curly, tousled head,

            Let her if she wills;

I’ve a notion I may be somewhere in her memory, that

      her thoughts will turn to me,

            As the country rills,

Whether blocked by rock or fern, though they pause,

      forever turn where the ocean’s billows yearn

            With their rushing hills—

Turn to me and I’ll be glad, for the summer’s fun she’s

      had, and they’d ought to—I’m her dad,

            And I pay her bills.

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