The Whistling Girl

Back of my back, they talk of me

Gabble and honk and hiss

Let them batten, and let them be

Me, I can sing them this



"Better to shiver beneath the stars

Head on a faithless breast

Than peer at the night through rusted bars

And share an irksome rest



"Better to see the dawn come up

Along of a trifling one

Than set a steady man's cloth and cup

And pray the day be done



"Better be left by twenty dears

Than lie in a loveless bed

Better a loaf that's wet with tears

Than cold, unsalted bread."



Back of my back, they wag their chins

Whinny and bleat and sigh

But better a heart a-bloom with sins

Than hearts gone yellow and dry!