| James Weldon Johnson, ed. (1871–1938). The Book of American Negro Poetry. 1922. |
| |
| ’Ittle Touzle Head |
| | | Ray G. Dandridge |
| | | | | (To R. V. P.) |
| |
| |
| CUM, listen w’ile yore Unkel sings | |
| Erbout how low sweet chariot swings, | |
| Truint Angel, wifout wings, | |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head. | |
| |
| Stop! Stop! How dare you laff et me, | 5 |
| Bekaze I foul de time an’ key, | |
| Thinks you dat I is Black Pattie, | |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head? | |
| |
| O, Honey Lam’! dem sparklin’ eyes, | |
| Dat offen laffs an’ selem cries, | 10 |
| Is sho a God gib natchel prize, | |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head. | |
| |
| An’ doze wee han’s so sof’ an’ sweet, | |
| Mates wid dem toddlin’, velvet feet, | |
| Jes to roun’ you out, complete, | 15 |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head. | |
| |
| Sma’t! youse sma’t ez sma’t kin be, | |
| Knows yore evah A, B, C, | |
| Plum on down to X, Y, Z, | |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head. | 20 |
| |
| De man doan know how much he miss, | |
| Ef he ain’t got no niece lak dis; | |
| Fro yore Unkel one mo’ kiss, | |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head! | |
| |
| I wist sum magic w’u’d ellow, | 25 |
| (By charm or craf’—doan mattah how) | |
| You stay jes lak you is right now, | |
| Mah ’ittle Touzle Head. | |
| |
|
|
|
