After the Accident

A poem by Francis Bret Harte

What I want is my husband, sir,
And if you’re a man, sir,
You’ll give me an answer,
Where is my Joe?

Penrhyn, sir, Joe,
Caernarvonshire.
Six months ago
Since we came here
Eh? Ah, you know!

Well, I am quiet
And still,
But I must stand here,
And will!
Please, I’ll be strong,
If you’ll just let me wait
Inside o’ that gate
Till the news comes along.

“Negligence!”
That was the cause!
Butchery!
Are there no laws,
Laws to protect such as we?

Well, then!
I won’t raise my voice.
There, men!
I won’t make no noise,
Only you just let me be.

Four, only four did he say
Saved! and the other ones? Eh?
Why do they call?
Why are they all
Looking and coming this way?

What’s that? a message?
I’ll take it.
I know his wife, sir,
I’ll break it.
“Foreman!”
Ay, ay!
“Out by and by,
Just saved his life.
Say to his wife
Soon he’ll be free.”
Will I? God bless you!
It’s me!

Reader Comments

Tell us what you think of 'After the Accident' by Francis Bret Harte

comments powered by Disqus

Home | Search | About this website | Contact | Privacy Policy