| Thomas R. Lounsbury, ed. (1838–1915). Yale Book of American Verse. 1912. |
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| Henry Cuyler Bunner. 1855–1896 |
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| 236. Candor |
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| October—A Wood |
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| "I KNOW what you 're going to say," she said, | |
| And she stood up looking uncommonly tall; | |
| "You are going to speak of the hectic Fall, | |
| And say you 're sorry the summer 's dead. | |
| And no other summer was like it, you know, | 5 |
| And can I imagine what made it so? | |
| Now are n't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said. | |
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| "I know what you 're going to say," she said; | |
| "You are going to ask if I forget | |
| That day in June when the woods were wet, | 10 |
| And you carried me"—here she dropped her head— | |
| "Over the creek; you are going to say, | |
| Do I remember that horrid day. | |
| Now are n't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said. | |
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| "I know what you 're going to say," she said; | 15 |
| "You are going to say that since that time | |
| You have rather tended to run to rhyme, | |
| And"—her clear glance fell and her cheek grew red— | |
| "And have I noticed your tone was queer?— | |
| Why, everybody has seen it here!— | 20 |
| Now are n't you, honestly?" "Yes," I said. | |
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| "I know what you 're going to say," I said; | |
| "You 're going to say you 've been much annoyed, | |
| And I 'm short of tact—you will say devoid— | |
| And I 'm clumsy and awkward, and call me Ted, | 25 |
| And I bear abuse like a dear old lamb, | |
| And you 'll have me, anyway, just as I am. | |
| Now are n't you, honestly?" | |
| "Ye-es," she said. | |
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