(Words by Jesse Fauset)

On summer afternoons I sit

Quiescent by you in the park,

And idly watch the sunbeams gild

And tint the ash tree's bark.

Or else I watch the squirrles frisk

And chaffer in the grassy lane;

And all the while I mark your voice

Break with love and pain.

I know a woman who would give

Her chance of heaven to take my place;

To see the love-light in your eyes,

The love-glow on your face!

And there's a man whose lightest word

Can set my chilly blood afire;

Fulfillment of his least behest

Defines my life's desire.

But he will none of me. Nor I

Of you. Nor you of her. 'Tis said

the world is full of justs like these. 

I wish that I were dead.