Flames
IT'S human nature for a bashful bloke
To bottle up, an' hesitate, an' doubt
Till grinnin' Fate plays him some low-down joke;
Then, in excitement, he goes blurtin' out
The tale his sane mind never would impart.
So all the near-by world knows it by heart.
Good luck for me, the near-by world that day.
When I ran sobbin' thro' the scorchin' fern.
Held few to hear the foolish things I say:
No one was there my secret thought to learn.
As I went shoutin' down the mountain spur.
Only the scared birds, an' the trees, an' Her.
In fancy, many men have been thro' Hell,
Tortured by fear, when hope has almost died;
But few have gone thro' that, an' fire as well
To come on Heaven at the other side
With just one angel in it, safe an' well—
A cool, calm angel by the name of Nell.
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