Ah me, ah me, that pumpkins are so small!
Pumpkin seeds like cold sea blooms bring me dreams;
Ah, Pete,—too sweet to me,—my Pete, it seems
Love like a Pumpkin holds me in its thrall;
And overhead a writhen shadow gleams,—
Ah me, ah me, that pumpkins are so small!
This intense poesy thrilled the heavens, and it was with a sense of relief to their throbbing souls that they listened to Mr. Bret Harte’s contribution:
Which I wish to remark,
That the lady was plain;
And for ways that are dark