KATY.

KATY.

Katy on the doorstep sat,While her dimpled fingers fatMoved industrious to and froO’er the gay pink calico;For an apron she was making,All herself, with much painstaking.Pretty picture made she there,Humming a quaint Celtic air,Blue eyes on the work intent,Cheek where tan and roses blent,Brown hair smoothly brushed and braided,Tied at ends with ribbon faded.Such a happy little maid,Sitting in the porch’s shade,Tempted me to questioning,Till she fell a-gossiping,All about her country tellingAnd the peasant’s mode of dwelling;How she came from “ferninst CorrkTin miles,” how she used to walkThere and back without a rest,Only, by the way confessed,That the miles “beyant” “air shorrter”Than they are this side the water;How the houses are of clay,And the roofs are green alway—Thatched with turf; how very sweetThe odor of the burning peat,Which warms in winter-time the cottageAnd cooks the oatmeal or the pottage;How now and then a troop passed by,Fox-hunting, riding gallantly—Fair ladies and fine gentlemen,Who dashed through field, and wood, and glen—Nor hedge, nor fence, nor stream could stayTheir fiery steeds upon the way;How on a hill-side near her homeThere stands a ruin, ivy-grown,Which long, and long, and long gone byWas a grand castle, strong and high;And now by night the people passingMake haste, for fear a ghost be chasing.Thus and so did Katy chat,As in the shaded porch she sat.The little maiden twelve years oldWith ready tongue her story told,Better than all the books relate itOr half the travelers can state it.

Katy on the doorstep sat,While her dimpled fingers fatMoved industrious to and froO’er the gay pink calico;For an apron she was making,All herself, with much painstaking.Pretty picture made she there,Humming a quaint Celtic air,Blue eyes on the work intent,Cheek where tan and roses blent,Brown hair smoothly brushed and braided,Tied at ends with ribbon faded.Such a happy little maid,Sitting in the porch’s shade,Tempted me to questioning,Till she fell a-gossiping,All about her country tellingAnd the peasant’s mode of dwelling;How she came from “ferninst CorrkTin miles,” how she used to walkThere and back without a rest,Only, by the way confessed,That the miles “beyant” “air shorrter”Than they are this side the water;How the houses are of clay,And the roofs are green alway—Thatched with turf; how very sweetThe odor of the burning peat,Which warms in winter-time the cottageAnd cooks the oatmeal or the pottage;How now and then a troop passed by,Fox-hunting, riding gallantly—Fair ladies and fine gentlemen,Who dashed through field, and wood, and glen—Nor hedge, nor fence, nor stream could stayTheir fiery steeds upon the way;How on a hill-side near her homeThere stands a ruin, ivy-grown,Which long, and long, and long gone byWas a grand castle, strong and high;And now by night the people passingMake haste, for fear a ghost be chasing.Thus and so did Katy chat,As in the shaded porch she sat.The little maiden twelve years oldWith ready tongue her story told,Better than all the books relate itOr half the travelers can state it.

Katy on the doorstep sat,While her dimpled fingers fatMoved industrious to and froO’er the gay pink calico;For an apron she was making,All herself, with much painstaking.

Katy on the doorstep sat,

While her dimpled fingers fat

Moved industrious to and fro

O’er the gay pink calico;

For an apron she was making,

All herself, with much painstaking.

Pretty picture made she there,Humming a quaint Celtic air,Blue eyes on the work intent,Cheek where tan and roses blent,Brown hair smoothly brushed and braided,Tied at ends with ribbon faded.

Pretty picture made she there,

Humming a quaint Celtic air,

Blue eyes on the work intent,

Cheek where tan and roses blent,

Brown hair smoothly brushed and braided,

Tied at ends with ribbon faded.

Such a happy little maid,Sitting in the porch’s shade,Tempted me to questioning,Till she fell a-gossiping,All about her country tellingAnd the peasant’s mode of dwelling;

Such a happy little maid,

Sitting in the porch’s shade,

Tempted me to questioning,

Till she fell a-gossiping,

All about her country telling

And the peasant’s mode of dwelling;

How she came from “ferninst CorrkTin miles,” how she used to walkThere and back without a rest,Only, by the way confessed,That the miles “beyant” “air shorrter”Than they are this side the water;

How she came from “ferninst Corrk

Tin miles,” how she used to walk

There and back without a rest,

Only, by the way confessed,

That the miles “beyant” “air shorrter”

Than they are this side the water;

How the houses are of clay,And the roofs are green alway—Thatched with turf; how very sweetThe odor of the burning peat,Which warms in winter-time the cottageAnd cooks the oatmeal or the pottage;

How the houses are of clay,

And the roofs are green alway—

Thatched with turf; how very sweet

The odor of the burning peat,

Which warms in winter-time the cottage

And cooks the oatmeal or the pottage;

How now and then a troop passed by,Fox-hunting, riding gallantly—Fair ladies and fine gentlemen,Who dashed through field, and wood, and glen—Nor hedge, nor fence, nor stream could stayTheir fiery steeds upon the way;

How now and then a troop passed by,

Fox-hunting, riding gallantly—

Fair ladies and fine gentlemen,

Who dashed through field, and wood, and glen—

Nor hedge, nor fence, nor stream could stay

Their fiery steeds upon the way;

How on a hill-side near her homeThere stands a ruin, ivy-grown,Which long, and long, and long gone byWas a grand castle, strong and high;And now by night the people passingMake haste, for fear a ghost be chasing.

How on a hill-side near her home

There stands a ruin, ivy-grown,

Which long, and long, and long gone by

Was a grand castle, strong and high;

And now by night the people passing

Make haste, for fear a ghost be chasing.

Thus and so did Katy chat,As in the shaded porch she sat.The little maiden twelve years oldWith ready tongue her story told,Better than all the books relate itOr half the travelers can state it.

Thus and so did Katy chat,

As in the shaded porch she sat.

The little maiden twelve years old

With ready tongue her story told,

Better than all the books relate it

Or half the travelers can state it.


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