I saw her standing on a chair
In a dark orange grove—aware,
I fancy, of my presence;
For though she neither looked nor turned,
Her cheek with more than sunset burned,
As if she felt Love’s essence.
She raised herself upon her toes—
Regardless of her boots and hose
(The day was one of March’s),
She picked the fruit above her head,
And softly as a Zephyr said,
“Mij oompie, bier is nartjes.”[21]
I took the fruit, I took her hand—
I squeezed them both—you understand?
I said, “Oh! let us wander
Beyond this darksome orange grove,
And talk of cattle—or of Love—
My gentle Afrikander.”[22]
I spoke to her in broken Dutch,
Or damaged English with a touch
Of “Afrikander” in it.
I said to her—what did I say?
I said “ah! ja,” I said “ah! nay,”
And said so every minute.
I said “ah! ja, ik dank u veel,”[23]
I’d thrown away the “nartje” peel
And sucked the juices there-in;
I said “I love you,” fruitful theme,
In such a case (I do not dream)
A man becomes Man-darin.
She stood just then as once stood Ruth,
“Amid the alien corn”—in truth
’Twas at no latticed casement—
’Twas in her father’s “mealie” ground
I spoke—she started at the sound
In mealies and amazement.
Oh! wonder not such things are done
So quickly ’neath a tropic sun—
“There is no time to tarry”—
Love ripens faster than the pine,
The Lover says “Will you be mine?”
Next week they go and marry.
I told her of my cows and calves,
And how with Thomson I was “halves,”
And totted up the figures—
How waggons of my own, one, two,
Were earning much at Se-coo-coo-
Ni’s, fighting ’gainst the niggers.
I told her that I was an Earl
Disguised—she swallowed it, dear girl—
I said I would repay her,
If she would give her heart to me,
A man used to society,
A gentleman “Karreweijer.”[24]
She said she’d cows and calves as well,
And oxen too, which she could sell—
A “rustbank”[25] chair and poodle,
And breathing then a pensive sigh
She said, “some land too, by and by,
A fourth of father’s boedel.”[26]