Brave Coward

 Elisabeth imagines I've
 A yellow streak
She deems I have no dash and drive,
 Jest dogoned weak.

'A man should be a man,' says Liz
 'Trade blow for blow.
'
Poor kid! What my position is
 She jest don't know.


She jest don't know my old man killed,
 Yea, slew and slew.

As steamy blood he sweetly spilled,
 So could I too.

And though no wrath of heart I show
 When I see red,
I fear no S.
 O.
 B.
 but oh
 Myself I dread.


Though fellers reckon me a dope
 And trigger-shy,
'Tain't nice to dangle on a rope,
 And like Pa die.

So as I belly to the bar
 Meek is my breath .
 .
 .

No guts! --Don't needle me too far,
 Elizabeth!

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