Donna, I Love You

I stepped from out the open door

Into my hallway, dark and long,

Then down the way of the pitch staircase,

Lantern in hand, I hummed a song.

Through the passage of the low cellar floor,

Down another hall, and through an old door.

I cast my lantern light round the dull rooms,

Over old chairs, and an uncouth loom.

Then just as done, I turned once more,

Turned the latch, and locked the door.

Out in the passage again I was,

On to the next room, because

In all the mass house, during the night,

It was my job to make safe and tight.

As I turned the last door, and turned out the light,

It seemed my job over, and twas time for goodnight.

I padded my way down the echoing hall,

Locked doors behind me, had finished my call

When there loomed before me the form of a man,

Standing six feet, strong built with large hands.

His face was clean-shaven, his keen eyes a glimmer,

My lantern must’a shaken cause they seem’ed to shimmer;

Dark dancing brown eyes, and an undefined face--

When he saw me he smiled, and stepped back a pace.

I’ll warrant, he stood while the light shone his teeth,

And he pushed back blond hair, with broad forehead beneath.

I stood there a tremblin’ with my lantern a shakin’

While he grinned with eyes flashin’, there’s no mistakin.’

I gathered my courage and then swallowed hard,

While he stood close by, not far from a yard.

“How’d you get here,” I questioned, in a tone that mocks,

“When all the house’s silent, and I’ve turned all the locks?”

“I came through the door,” he said still a grinning,

“And I don’t see why you should think it be sinning--

As the door stood wide open, and the master was out,

And you, pretty woman, were as good as without.”

“You must be mistaken,” I quickly did say,

“That you found the door open, and master away;

For I checked all the doors, and locked all them tight,

And master would never be gone in the night.

So how did you get here, and why be your stay,

If the door was wide open, and master away?”

The man stood a grinnin,’ an open faced stare,

With bold eyes a shining, and gold flaxen hair.

He leaned up the wall, as cool as could be,

And stood there a grinin’ and starin’ at me.

I thought of my life, with all its despairs,

Of the long-toiling life of twenty-one years.

I held lantern high, as I gazed at his face,

Unashamedly staring like a bulwark in space.

“Why did you come in?” I asked irritated,

“You dismay me quite so, when I could be elated

If you’d just tell me plainly what you are about,

And why you came in when the master was out!”

“I told you,” he said, “Twas was the door’s open,

And I’d seen you before, though no words were spoken,

When you locked up the doors, and bound up the shutters,

And cleaned up the mess when all house was cluttered,

And bound the kid’s knees, when they’d cut up with bruises,

And write letters for master whenever he chooses.

I saw the door open, and I walked up inside,

To see you, pretty maiden, see you besides.”

He said it so honestly, with blue eyes a dancing,

And looked on me squarely, like a fire horse prancing.

“Is that all?” I asked, as I still was unsure,

And thought in my mind all that he could conjure.

“That’s all,” he answered, just as fine as you please,

And put on his hat, and was turning to leave,

But he pressed in my hand a well-sealed letter,

And told me to read it, cause’ he thought I’d read better.

Just as I heard the door close quickly,

I tore off the seal, revealing a letter thickly

Covered in pictures of flame,

With emblems of sweat hears, and engraved edged names.

On an oak tree was mine, in an old elm was his,

And below it was written, “Do you remember what ‘tis?”

The note fell from my hands, oh, how my feet flew

As I rounded the railing and called, “I love you!”

He threw open the door just as quick as a flash

And the next thing I knew he was there in a dash.

We kissed, oh so sweetly, as though were still children,

And it couldn’t have been better than of Old Mrs. Mildren

(As is un-honest, and ever so elvish,

That the minister says she’s something quite hellish!)

Then he told me he’d been tryin’ to talk outrightly,

But his bashfulness never would let him do rightly.

So he gave me that note, he’d made in first grade,

And with the note for the deal, our engagement--was made.

And just as he’d started, though never had said it,

He said, “Donna, I love you,” and now, we’ve been wedded.