by John Vance Cheney
Wide awake, now, mind your eye,
She will think on 't by and by;
She will see — perhaps — she may,
'Gin to-morrer, not to-day.
" Be true to me,
Furgit, " says she,
Jest as it may hit her fancy:
That 's it zackly, that is Nancy.
Take a squirrel up a tree,
Jest so frisky, sir, is she:
Now on this side, now on that,
You must watch her like a cat.
It 's " No, " it's " Yes,
I rather guess, " —
Jest as it may tech her fancy:
That's it zackly, that is Nancy.
You 've seen creeturs sudding lame,
Git too near 'em, an' — they 're game!
Her right over: an inch too near,
Up and off is Nancy dear.
" Yes, Jake, " says she,
" Laws sake! " says she,
Jest accordin' to her fancy:
That's it zackly, that is Nancy.
Whew! a gal 's a cunnin' thing;
You must take 'em on the wing. —
I 'll be goin'; fur, ye see,
Nancy, she's expectin' me.
I 'll hit or miss her,
It 's quit or kiss her;
I 'm fur facts, while she 's fur fancy:
That 's us zackly — me and Nancy.
Last updated September 07, 2017