Oh, dere 's lots o' keer an' trouble In dis world to swaller down; An' ol' Sorrer 's purty lively
"Break me my bounds, and let me fly To regions vast of boundless sky; Nor I, like piteous Daphne, be
Uncle John, he makes me tired; Thinks 'at he's jest so all-fired Smart, 'at he kin pick up, so,
Yes, my ha't 's ez ha'd ez stone-- Go 'way, Sam, an' lemme 'lone. No; I ain't gwine change my min'--
The air is dark, the sky is gray, The misty shadows come and go, And here within my dusky room
My lady love lives far away, And oh my heart is sad by day, And ah my tears fall fast by night,
Outside the rain upon the street, The sky all grim of hue, Inside, the music-painful sweet,
Seen my lady home las' night, Jump back, honey, jump back. Hel' huh han' an' sque'z it tight,
De trees is bendin' in de sto'm, De rain done hid de mountain's fo'm, I 's 'lone an' in distress.
Thou art the soul of a summer's day, Thou art the breath of the rose. But the summer is fled
It's hot to-day. The bees is buzzin' Kinder don't-keer-like aroun' An' fur off the warm air dances
I've always been a faithful man An' tried to live for duty, But the stringent mode of life
Know you, winds that blow your course Down the verdant valleys, That somewhere you must, perforce,
My muvver's ist the nicest one 'At ever lived wiz folks; She lets you have ze mostes' fun,
Caught Susanner whistlin'; well, It's most nigh too good to tell. 'Twould 'a' b'en too good to see
The sky of brightest gray seems dark To one whose sky was ever white. To one who never knew a spark,
Villain shows his indiscretion, Villain's partner makes confession. Juvenile, with golden tresses,
The gray dawn on the mountain top Is slow to pass away. Still lays him by in sluggish dreams,
De way t'ings come, hit seems to me, Is des' one monst'ous mystery; De way hit seem to strike a man,
My neighbor lives on the hill, And I in the valley dwell, My neighbor must look down on me,
Seen you down at chu'ch las' night, Nevah min', Miss Lucy. What I mean? oh, dat 's all right,
Hit 's been drizzlin' an' been sprinklin', Kin' o' techy all day long. I ain't wet enough fu' toddy,
Who dat knockin' at de do'? Why, Ike Johnson,--yes, fu' sho! Come in, Ike. I 's mighty glad
The moon begins her stately ride Across the summer sky; The happy wavelets lash the shore,--
You 'll be wonderin' whut 's de reason I 's a grinnin' all de time, An' I guess you t'ink my sperits
De dog go howlin' 'long de road, De night come shiverin' down; My back is tiahed of its load,
Tek a cool night, good an' cleah, Skiff o' snow upon de groun'; Jes' 'bout fall-time o' de yeah
If life were but a dream, my Love, And death the waking time; If day had not a beam, my Love,
When August days are hot an' dry, When burning copper is the sky, I 'd rather fish than feast or fly
'Lias! 'Lias! Bless de Lawd! Don' you know de day's erbroad? Ef you don' git up, you scamp,
I held my heart so far from harm, I let it wander far and free In mead and mart, without alarm,
Oh, the day has set me dreaming In a strange, half solemn way Of the feelings I experienced
Love me. I care not what the circling years To me may do. If, but in spite of time and tears,
The draft of love was cool and sweet You gave me in the cup, But, ah, love's fire is keen and fleet,
I don't believe in 'ristercrats An' never did, you see; The plain ol' homelike sorter folks
The moon has left the sky, love, The stars are hiding now, And frowning on the world, love,
Some folks t'inks hit's right an' p'opah, Soon ez bedtime come erroun', Fu' to scramble to de kiver,
The November sun invites me, And although the chill wind smites me, I will wander to the woodland
O Mother Race! to thee I bring This pledge of faith unwavering, This tribute to thy glory.
I sit upon the old sea wall, And watch the shimmering sea, Where soft and white the moonbeams fall,
Whose little lady is you, chile, Whose little gal is you? What's de use o' kiver'n up yo' face?
Ef dey 's anyt'ing dat riles me An' jes' gits me out o' hitch, Twell I want to tek my coat off,
Dear heart, good-night! Nay, list awhile that sweet voice singing When the world is all so bright,
Who say my hea't ain't true to you? Dey bettah heish dey mouf. I knows I loves you thoo an' thoo
What if the wind do howl without, And turn the creaking weather-vane; What if the arrows of the rain
She told her beads with down-cast eyes, Within the ancient chapel dim; And ever as her fingers slim
Air a-gittin' cool an' coolah, Frost a-comin' in de night, Hicka' nuts an' wa'nuts fallin',
Love used to carry a bow, you know, But now he carries a taper; It is either a length of wax aglow,
Heel and toe, heel and toe, That is the song we sing; Turn to your partner and curtsey low,
Good hunting!--aye, good hunting, Wherever the forests call; But ever a heart beats hot with fear,
All hot and grimy from the road, Dust gray from arduous years, I sat me down and eased my load
In the heavy earth the miner Toiled and laboured day by day, Wrenching from the miser mountain
In this sombre garden close What has come and passed, who knows? What red passion, what white pain
There's a memory keeps a-runnin' Through my weary head to-night, An' I see a picture dancin'
In de dead of night I sometimes, Git to t'inkin' of de pas' An' de days w'en slavery helt me
W'en daih 's chillun in de house, Dey keep on a-gittin' tall; But de folks don' seem to see
'Tis an old deserted homestead On the outskirts of the town, Where the roof is all moss-covered,
'T was three an' thirty year ago, When I was ruther young, you know, I had my last an' only fight
Come, drink a stirrup cup with me, Before we close our rouse. You 're all aglow with wine, I know:
A little dreaming by the way, A little toiling day by day; A little pain, a little strife,
De night creep down erlong de lan', De shadders rise an' shake, De frog is sta'tin' up his ban',
'Twas the apple that in Eden Caused our father's primal fall; And the Trojan War, remember--
Underneath the autumn sky, Haltingly, the lines go by. Ah, would steps were blithe and gay,
Ah me, it is cold and chill And the fire sobs low in the grate, While the wind rides by on the hill,
Thou art my lute, by thee I sing,-- My being is attuned to thee. Thou settest all my words a-wing,
It is as if a silver chord Were suddenly grown mute, And life's song with its rhythm warred
Step me now a bridal measure, Work give way to love and leisure, Hearts be free and hearts be gay--
God has his plans, and what if we With our sight be too blind to see Their full fruition; cannot he,
When I was young I longed for Love, And held his glory far above All other earthly things. I cried:
The sun has slipped his tether And galloped down the west. (Oh, it's weary, weary waiting, love.)
G'way an' quit dat noise, Miss Lucy-- Put dat music book away; What's de use to keep on tryin'?
Hyeah dat singin' in de medders Whaih de folks is mekin' hay? Wo'k is pretty middlin' heavy