Not sheep, precisely- possibly Faulkner

[Sean Winkel]

UNE BALLADE D'UNE VACHE PERDUE.
                  -------------
          Part Premie're [sic].
The flowing reeds entwined her knees,
As the wind came thru them, lisping,
Sighing, and onward thru tall trees
Persued, silent leaflets whispering.
Many secrets of things forlorn,
They told her who stood beneath them,
Her whose tired limbs, since early morn,
Had gone leagues the land o'er.  Ahem!

          Part Deuxie'me [sic].
Stood the implacable Betsy,
On a rounded mound uprising,
Becoming a bit unresty:
That form against the horizon
Silhouetted.  With rounded curves,
Stood Betsy, her form in rythm [sic],
(Quite enough to upset one's nerves)' [sic]
Swaying, disdainfully swaying.  Ahem!

          Part Troisie'me [sic].
Sad, to her eyelids came not tears,
Tired, to her thighs came not resting.
Waving tresses draped, not her ears,
As she stood there nude, divesting
Herself of flies that swarmed on her
Far; far from her home this heifer
Had wounded and now she was lost, 
And could not find her way home again.  Ahem!
                                   LORD GREYSON [sic].
         (The Mississippian, May 12, 1920, p. 3.)




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