(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.