I UP FROM GEORGIA By FRANK L. STANTON Author of "Songs of the Soil," etc. iorft D. APPLETON &? COMPANY 1902 LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIo COPYRIGHT, 1902 BY D. APPLETON AND COMPANY PuUisTicil October, To JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS These echoes from the Georgian hills And violet-vales of May That love your name, and in your fame Shine o'er the world to-day. CONTENTS PAGE The singers I Wedded 2 Down on the old plantation ...... 4 The world-way of the South ...... 6 Christmas times in Georgia ....... 8 In an old inn 10 A song of her lover ........ 12 An old man's musing 14 A morning song ......... 16 A little cot 18 The way Old Glory goes 20 When the old man got religion . . . . . .21 Here's hopin' ......... 24 Two pictures ......... 26 When the fall time comes . . . . . . . 27 The merry round ........ 28 In wind and rain .29 Return, sweet day 32 Life's wayside inn ........ 33 Evening song ......... 3^ Along life's way ......... 36 The dream 37 The volunteer 39 "Hold on awhile" 40 V CONTENTS The fall of frost 41 The story of the bonnet ....... 42 The prayer for rain ........ 45 The later rest ......... 49 At roll call . . ....... . 51 The last of the grenadiers . . . . . . . 52 He dances life away ........ 55 Dear little fellow ..... . . 56 In the branch 58 His best .......... 60 Ten acres and Mary ........ 61 In Halleluia Town . 62 A song in April ......... 64 In fields of bloom ........ 65 The morning ......... 67 When Jenny came along ....... 68 In campmeetin' time ......... 69 The ship's coming home . . . . . . 71 "Tollable well!" 72 A poor, plain colonel ........ 73 Before a fine oak fire 74 An answered prayer ........ 76 Blooms 77 At the opera 78 Our country's call . 80 As the boys go marching by . . . . . .81 The miracle days ........ 83 A pretty good world -85 Singing him to sleep ........ 87 The blessed rain 89 vi CONTENTS Out in the weather 90 An Indian-summer day ....... 91 A rockaby song ......... 92 Goodby, Mister Rain ........ 93 Hoe your row ......... 94 His time for singing ........ 95 The colored dancing match ...... 96 " Des a HT cabin " 100 A springtime philosopher ....... 102 Two views of it . . . . . . . . 104 The way to the melon patch 105 Swing dem sisters ........ 106 For Christmas grace 107 A field song ......... 108 A song of to-morrow . . . . . . . .no March and April in His song of money . . . . . . . .112 The way love leads . . . . . . . . 113 Dear, toiling hands . . . . . . . .114 The victory of peace . . . . . . . . 1 1 7 Jean 121 The ride with Molly 122 The woman's song . . . . . . .124 Her talking eyes . . . . . . . .126 The little one away 127 What the toys said 129 Miss Mary 131 We'll get on the brighter side 132 Naming the baby 133 How the old man went home 135 vii CONTENTS Dat's my liT boy 137 The absence of Philip 138 The rippling of Old Glory . . . . . . . 139 Just whistle ......... 140 What the car wheels sang ....... 142 Morning and night . . . . . . . .145 A song of life ......... 146 The call of freedom . . . . . . . .148 A prayer of gifts ........ 149 To the fields 150 Alone with the dream 151 A ballad 152 A song of hope . . . . . . . . . 153 On the march ......... 154 The oft-told tale 155 To a singer ......... 156 The passing of a hero . . . . . . .160 The voice of the South 164 A Georgia courtship . . . . . . . .166 The sweetest of memory's bells .172 Rain 174 William McKinley 176 Vlll THE SINGERS Chorus of singers, day by day Thick in the world they throng ; But mark ye, masters ! the weary way Is sweet for the sake of song ! Not song that soars to the heights above That thrills through the vista'd years ; But it brings the light to the eyes of love. And is sweet with the gift of tears. No song that pictures the battle-strife For there are the singers grand ; There are greater deeds in the vales of life Than on heights where the heroes stand. Chorus of singers ! The world hath need Of the humbler strains that fall On the wayside lone on the paths that lead To the light that shines for all. WEDDED Well, you are wedded, and around your life Twine two great joys ; for some one calls you wife, And child-lips murmur : " Mother ! " and you smile After long years of sorrow and heart-strife. Smile up into the eyes that meet your own Feel the strong, sheltering arm around you thrown And with the loveliest words of love you while The hours away, no longer dark and lone. You feel the clinging of your child ; you feel His arms about your neck ; his kisses steal Away the sigh that trembles to your lips When faithful Memory doth some face reveal From out the fading past ; but tears or sighs Are not for your sweet lips for your bright eyes ; What earthly joy can now your joy eclipse ? For, choosing well, your love could be but wise. And yet, I fancy that upon your brow There is a faint, sad shadow resting now ; The bended head droops lower, till at last Your weeping face in your pale hands you bow 2 WEDDED And give yourself to grief ! Is it not so ? A voice calls to you from the long ago A hand is stretched toward you from the past And joy is lost in bitterness and woe ! You wonder why the tears your eyes should fill ; You whisper to your breaking heart : " Be still ! " But the heart moans with yearning unsufficed Vague yearning, which the world can never fill. For women love but once ; and if denied That first, sweet love, they live unsatisfied, Clinging to it as to the cross of Christ A cross whereon their hearts are crucified. And this is life the life which we must lead : A life of dire distress and sorest need ; A life which longs, but vainly longs, for rest Rest for the hands that toil the hearts that bleed. Aye ! this is life. Heaven's mercy on us, sweet ! Be it that you and I no more shall meet Until the grass is green above the breast, And God's white daisies grow at head and feet ! DOWN ON THE OLD PLANTATION In spite of politics an' sich A-worryin' of the nation, We're doin' well in Georgy Ian* Down on the ol' plantation. We're fixin' now fer cotton white To fleece the fiel's from left to right, An' take oP Georgy out o' sight Down on the oP plantation ! Ain't nothin' throws us out o' gear, Or hinders our salvation ; We're good fer all the wear an' tear Down on the ol' plantation. We're workin' whilst it's called to-day To meet the Good Times on the way, An' life's a regular hooray ! Down on the ol' plantation. Fer still the seasons as they go Shout joy from every station, The joy o' reapin' what we sow Down on the ol' plantation. 4 DOWN ON THE OLD PLANTATION Joy in the singin' o' the rills The mockin' birds, the whippoorwills ; We've struck the halleluia hills Down on the ol j plantation ! THE WORLD-WAY OF THE SOUTH Not lost in a languor of blisses, In valleys sweet-breathing of bloom, Though roses are fain of her kisses And stars braid her brows in the gloom ; Though lilies lean to her and love her, And the love-song is sweet in her mouth, And the world green the skies blue above her Sing the South ! Sing the South ! Sing the South ! In the strength of high faith she hath risen, Her flag on her mountains unfurled ; She hath rent the great hills that imprison The glittering wealth of a world. With the thrill of a new life elated The harvest its fruitfulness yields : And the ships, far sea-faring, are freighted With the fleece of her flowering fields. Hers all the crowned hills of Endeavor, The garlands, the triumphs of life j Her voice is a clarion ever A battle-song heard in the strife ; 6 THE WORLD-WAY OF THE SOUTH With Freedom in fairest communion 3 With Liberty facing the Fates, Love-linked to the stars of the Union, And the flag rippling over the States. CHRISTMAS TIMES IN GEORGIA Don't care how the cotton sells Christmas times in Georgia ! Hear the ringin' o' the bells Christmas times in Georgia ! Take your place, Miss Nancy-Lou, Eyes like violets bright with dew ! Sugar is sweet, an' so are you Christmas times in Georgia ! Don't care how the country goes Christmas times in Georgia ! Loud an' sweet the bugle blows Christmas times in Georgia ! Take your place, Malinda-Jane, Curls as bright as April rain, Lips as sweet as sugar-cane Christmas times in Georgia ! Don't care how the fiddle play Christmas times in Georgia ! Let the roarin' oak-fires blaze Christmas times in Georgia ! 8 CHRISTMAS TIMES IN GEORGIA Come from east, and come from west, In your silks an' satins dressed, Kiss the one you love the best Christmas times in Georgia ! Balance to your partners all Christmas times in Georgia ! Lead the ladies round the hall Christmas times in Georgia ! Roof is ringin' ; snow an' sleet ; But the music's in your feet ! Girls '11 pay the forfeits sweet Christmas times in Georgia ! IN AN OLD INN A jolly landlord and a blazing fire; Without the snow, the sleet. Let the bleak winter wreak his heart's desire ! Here the old friends we meet. While fast the shadows of the night are falling No comfort shall we lack ; For is not FalstafF from a corner calling : " Sirrah, a cup of sack ? " It is no time for grief for melancholy ; Great tales there are to tell. The " Sluggish Knight " drinks with the friar jolly Not from Saint Dunstan's well. Trampling of feet voices in hallways humming ; Here a tired traveller nods ; A trumpet sounds * * * a The coach th< coach is coming ! O for a coach, ye gods ! " Care is a river, but we've crossed the ferry To where the bright fields bloom. Chaucer comes in with tales of Canterbury ; Room for the old man room ! 10 IN AN OLD INN He scarce hath told the tale, sweet in the telling, Ere a glad eye discerns A gentler guest. A chorus glad is swelling : " Tore God, here's Bobby Burns ! " Was ever yet so wonderful a party ? Dash down, O wintry rain ! Clink glasses, O my masters- drink ye hearty Until we meet again ! * II A SONG OF HER LOVER Fm a-goin' to meet my lover at the grindin' of the cane At the grindin' of the cane, At the grindin' of the cane ; He's comin' on his pony in a canter down the lane He passes all the purty girls, an' gives his pony rein; Fer my lover's goin' to meet me, My lover's goin' to meet me At the grindin' at the grindin' of the cane ! Fm a-goin' to meet my lover at the grindin' of the cane At the grindin' of the cane, At the grindin' of the cane ; He gallops 'crost the medders he canters down the lane, With not a kiss fer Jenny, nor a wavin' hand to Jane ; Fer my lover's goin' to meet me, My lover's goin' to meet me At the grindin' at the grindin' of the cane ! 12 A SONG OF HER LOVER Who wouldn't wait to meet him as he rides as he rides To the grindin' of the cane, To the grindin' of the cane ; With the foam, like snow, a-fallin* from his frisky pony's sides; An* he'll be the best of husbands, an' I'll be the best of brides ; Fer my lover's goin' to meet me : With a kiss of love he'll greet me At the grindin' at the grindin' of the cane ! AN OLD MAN'S MUSING I Ain't takin' no stock in the snow it ain't what I love an' admire ; I'm jest settin' here in a rickety chair an' smokin' my pipe by the fire. The trees are like skeletons white that shake in the wind as it blows, An' out in the black o' the night the hills they look ghostly Lord knows ! II Ain't takin' no stock in the snow ; but, somehow or other, it seems With its lonesome-like whiteness, to take me fur back to the valley o' dreams ; An' I'm thinkin' o' friends that have left me the friends that I loved long ago, Some of 'em fur an' divided, an' some lyin' under the snow. Ill I'm thinkin' of how, by the fireplace, the good wife was settin' that day When the snowflakes was fallin', an' rosy the chil dren come in from their play ; AN OLD MAN'S MUSING When I had not a thought that I'd ever be settin' as lonesome as this, Fur off from the love o' the children come in from the snow fer a kiss ! IV But mother an* children where are they ? The mother went home long ago To the place where the light is eternally bright, an' there's never no winter an' snow. An' the children they're fur from the home place, an' mostly fergittin to write, An' that's why I'm feelin' so lonesome in the snow that is fallin' to-night ! V But it's Life, an I ain't a-complainin', fer the Lord sent me skies that was fair, An' I'm thankful to-night fer this fire's bright light an' the rest o' this rickety chair ; But I still fall to thinkin' an' sighin', an' I reckon 'twill always be so, Till Life's fire is a handful of ashes, an' I pass o'er the hills of the snow. 15 A MORNING SONG I Open wide the windows The green hills are in sight, Winds are whispering, " Violets ! " And there's a daisy white, And, the great sun says " Good morning ! " and the valleys sing, " Delight ! " II Open wide the windows Life will not let us rest ! A thousand airy messengers From rosy east to west Are come with sweetest singing with roses for Love's breast. Ill No more the white-browed Winter With stormy, wild alarms ! There's a poet listening listening, Where a sense of music charms Even the woman in the doorway with the baby in her arms. 16 A MORNING SONG IV Take hands and meet the morning On the hills in valleys deep : The Darkness was but dreaming Where we felt the shadows creep. Grief wakens on the breast of Joy who sighed him self to sleep. V And the green of field and meadow, And the enfolding blue above, The clear call of the robin Silver-thrush and gray-winged dove, Shall seem to us a recompense for lost, remembered Love ! VI Open wide the windows ! Sweet smells the rain-blest sod ; The seed dreams of the harvest And the color's in the clod ; And the whole world breathes the beauty of the Light and Love of God ! A LITTLE COT It's a little cot In a little spot, With a little heaven has sent, An' her hand in mine In rain or shine, An' I'm goin' my way content. I'm goin' my way content, With the blue skies over me bent ; An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong, But my heart keeps singin' a thankful song. It's a little way From that cot each day In the toilin' world I roam ; But the whole day long That sweet heart-song, And a kiss when the stars sing : " Home ! " A kiss for a welcome home, When the bees are hid in the comb ; An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong, But Love keeps singin' the same sweet song. 18 A LITTLE COT The same sweet song Where the toilers throng An' the skies are cold an' gray ; For I hear the beat Of her heart so sweet, Callin' me far away ! Callin' me far away To the blooms an' the bells o' May ; An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong, But her heart keeps singin' that same sweet song. An' the little cot In the little spot Is dearer than domes that rise ; For the day is bright An' the night is light With the love in a woman's eyes. With the love in a woman's eyes A love that never dies ; An' the world is right, an' the world is wrong, But Love keeps singin' the same sweet song. THE WAY OLD GLORY GOES In sunlight or in stormy day, With friendliness or foes, The country's going just the way The way Old Glory " goes. To-day to-morrow still she waves Over earth's Freedom or our graves ! She arches earth a rainbow's ray, Or, when the storm-wind blows, A beacon-blaze, she lights the way The way that freedom goes. To-day to-morrow still she waves Over our glory or our graves. 20 WHEN THE OLD MAN GOT RELIGION When the ol' man got religion things sorter changed aroun', The house wuz topsy-turvy, the worl' wuz upside down ; We didn't know what hit us ; 'peared like we'd started wrong ; Life had to be made over to his halleluia song ! 'Twuz in the winter season ? He lit in thisaway : He pulled the kiver off us long 'fore the break o' day; u Stir roun' ! stir roun' !" he'd holler all up an' down the stairs " This life's too short fer sleepin' ; rise up fer family prayers ! " We crawled out from that kivcr with mournful sighs an' groans, The teeth of us a-chatterin' like minstrels beatin' bones ! An', ranged aroun' the fireplace a mighty mournful ring He'd holler : " Hymn Two Hundred : Let ever'body sing! 21 UP FROM GEORGIA An' you never heard such singin' sence life an' time begun ; The angels couldn't stand it, an' stopped their ears an' run ! Fer the music, comin' zig-zag from them new singin' ranks, Wuz worse than storm-winds howlin' roun' Jordan's stormy banks ! He kept the whole house hustlin' : " Work while it's called To-day ! An' pray whilst you're a-workin' ; but work an' work away ! " But ever' youngster of us with sad an' sollum face, Wuz prayin' fer the ol' man to fall away from grace ! Long years have passed an' left us still with our work to do; An' the ol' man, bein' weary, went Home an' left us, too ; Led by his homely counsel safe to the shelterin' fold- Sightin' the fur-off city with shinin' streets of gold. 22 WHEN THE OLD MAN GOT RELIGION An' evermore we're praisin' of the Providence on high That the oP man got religion in the happy days gone by; An* we hope to hear him shoutin', when we reach the heavenly stairs, In the bright, Celestial mornin', " Rise up to fam'ly prayers ! " HERE'S HOPIN' Year ain't been the very best ; Purty hard by trouble pressed ; But the rough way leads to rest, Here's hopin' ! Maybe craps wuz short ; the rills Couldn't turn the silent mills ; But the light's behind the hills, Here's hopin' ! Where we planted roses sweet Thorns come up an' pricked the feet ; But this old world's hard to beat, Here's hopin' ! P'r'aps the buildin' that we planned 'Gainst the cyclone couldn't stand ; But, thank God we've got the land^ Here's hopin' ! Maybe flowers we hoped to save Have been scattered on a grave ; But the heart's still beatin' brave, Here's hopin' ! 24 HERE'S HOPIN' That we'll see the mornin' light That the very darkest night Can't hide heaven from our sight, Here's hopin' ! TWO PICTURES I In the dewy morn I wove the red sash for my lover's sword, In the sound of the silver bugles Blowing merrily over the violet vales. My red lips leaned to the steel, And kissed it for a holy cause. And then the lips of my lover And over the orchards The music of a farewell song. II In the mist-wreathed twilight I wove the white shroud for my lover's sword, In the sound of the muffled drums Moaning over the darkened vales. My white lips leaned to the steel, And kissed it, and were crimsoned. And then the cold lips of my lover, And over the orchards The long, desolate Night ! 26 WHEN THE FALL TIME COMES There's somethin' like a jingle an' a tingle in the air, Fer the honey's jest a-drippin' from the hives ; The fields are lookin' frosty with the white that blos soms there, An' the corn crap's jest the biggest of our lives ! Summer's a-goin' Needn't beat the drums ; We're bound to have a showin* When the fall time comes ! There's somethin' like a jingle an' a tingle every where, An' the blue smoke has a meanin' as it curls ; They're tunin' of the fiddle, an' there's music in the air, An* we'll soon be swinging corners with the girls ! Summer's a-goin' Needn't beat the drums ; We're bound to have a showin* When the fall time comes ! THE MERRY ROUND Sich a round o' pleasure goin' left an' right, Daytime is a picnic dancin' ever' night ! Never wuz so happy valley, plain, or hill, Forty dozen weddin's, and the women willin' still ! Growled about the weather when the summer sun Wilted all the cornblades made the toilers run ! But look at what it brought us ! harvests broad an* high, An' halleluias goin' in music to the sky. Sich a round o' pleasure ! when the riddles play Wouldn't swap the winter fer the bloom o' May ! Backlog in the chimney red sparks on the fly ; Cane-juice never sweeter, an' bright bead on the rye ! Ain't this world a great one ? Joy jest layin' round, Twinklin' in the frost-flakes kiverin' all the ground ; Never wuz so happy valley, plain, or hill, Forty dozen weddin's, an the women willin' still ! 28 IN WIND AND RAIN I Tired out ! . . . and the wind and rain Dash of the sleet at the window pane, And ever a flurry Of snow as white As a soul should be In God's own sight . . . And I would that she were here to-night ! II What harm if she, in the mystery And moan of the darkness should come to me ? Should come as the bloom From the blast and blight The rose's red, And the rose's white, Should come as a flower to my breast to-night ? Ill Have I only won from Life's storm and stress Starless Night and Loneliness ? 29 UP FROM GEORGIA Have I trampled the Wrong And lifted the Right, To see the dreams Of my soul take flight To long for a little of Love to-night ? IV If she should come as the storm breaks wide, Would the mad world strike her from my side ? Love claims his own Of right and might, From the depths of hell To a heaven's height ! . . . And he only asks for his own to-night ! I am weary of dreams ... to wake and miss The lips God made for a lover's kiss ! To know that life Is fast in flight That hell is Darkness, And heaven Light, And all that I ask is Love to-night ! 30 IN WIND AND RAIN VI Tired out ! ... m the Night's despair, And Love shut out in the Darkness there ! And hell so deep, And heaven so high, And the curse of sleep Where a dream's a sigh ! The dream of a Love that will not die ! VII Tired out ! . . . and the wind and rain, And the wistful eyes at the window-pane. Come in, O Love ! The hearth's a-light, And your soul is white As the snow is white ! Come in from the world to your own to-night ! RETURN, SWEET DAY I Return, O Day, from out the vanished years Where now no fires on ruined altars burn ; I give you all Love's tenderness and tears : Return, sweet Day, return ! II The same sweet stars are in the heavens of blue, The same sad lessons Life hath still to learn. I am aweary for the love of you : Kind Day, return return ! Ill So brief the time so rain-dark with Love's tears So vainly for one gleam of grace I yearn, With but one cry in all the dying years, " Return, sweet Day, return ! " LIFE'S WAYSIDE INN I Let us rest us from the strife At this wayside Inn of Life ; No remembrances of years Sorrows, or the fall of tears. Let us rest us from the throng Where the Silence is a song. II Let us rest : The twilight falls Soft on echoless, dim halls, Where life's withering blooms are shed- Life of quiet comforted. Stormy was the way, and long, But God's Silence is a song. Ill What were worldly hopes and fears? What were kisses what were tears ? What the heart's cry in the stress Of its unloved loneliness ? After all the wrath and wrong Comes God's Silence like a song. 33 UP FROM GEORGIA IV Rest, O Heart ! from storm and strife At this wayside Inn of Life ! We shall fold above the breast Hands that need God's gift of Rest. Comes the Night : the Night is long, But God's Silence is a song! 34 EVENING SONG I The shadows deepen in the western sky, The birds take homeward flight ; And one must weep to see the daylight die ; For Love is not ; and Memory is a sigh : Goodnight ! Goodnight ! II Did any deed unkind, dear, thrill your breast A shadow in the light ? A look a tone, that brought a dream unblest ? Breathe sweet forgiveness ere sleep whispers, " Rest : " Goodnight ! Goodnight ! Ill One star alone in the still heaven appears A bloom where all seems blight ; I come to you, with trembling hopes and fears I hold your hand I kiss away your tears : Goodnight ! Goodnight ! 35 ALONG LIFE'S WAY I I only ask the strength the grace To take life's crosses as they come I may not always see God's face; In darkness I am dumb. Why should I murmur at the way ? Life must have winter, even as May. II I count my gain, and not my loss, And still my soul is comforted Though every path leads to a cross Whose shadows hide Love's dead. Out of the blackness of the night God weaves a laurel for the light. Ill And still far off the light appears, And still sweet benedictions fall ; The tears we shed are April tears Sunlight is in them all ! Sorrow endureth not for long : Joy cometh with the morning song ! THE DREAM So, little heart, Love's summer sweets are dead The glory and the gleam. Face the world bravely ; let no tear be shed. It was a dream a dream ! Were there not whispers in the song-thrilled air A shadow in the beam ? And did you think a flower could live so fair ? Heart, 'twas a dream a dream ! We are all dreamers from the mother's breast Through years of peace or pain. Weep not past dreams ; forget them ! it is best. Dear, you shall dream again ! The world is beckoning with its bright lights see ! Green fields and rippled waves. The lilies for the living ! There will be Flowers enough for graves. Lay by each token touched, perhaps, with tears From the new life apart. The wan and withered violets of sweet years, That dreamed above your heart. 37 UP FROM GEORGIA Playthings of Fate, that Fate would cast aside : Say in new strength and trust ; u Sweet were the violets but the violets died ; Dust unto rosy dust ! " Dear little heart ! the mourning will be brief; Lo ! a bright dawn appears. This world of joy is all too sweet for grief Too sunny-bright for tears. Take up the task ; there will be strength for all ;- Stars through the storm will stream. Leave the past tearless where the dead leaves fall It was a dream a dream ! THE VOLUNTEER The band was playin' " Dixie " when he marched, marched away ; An' never any likelier lad stepped time to it that day; " The finest fellow of 'em all ! " I heard the town- folk say. The band was playin' " Dixie " as he marched marched away. How fast my wild arms held him my boy, who would not stay The likeliest lad that answered to the captain's call that day ! " The finest fellow of 'em all ! " An' in the red array Of flags that rippled over them they marched my lad away ! But a mother's fears, and prayers, and tears are noth ing. War must slay, And the draped, deep drums were muffled as they brought him home that day : " The finest fellow of 'em all ! " I heard the town- folk say. And his mother bendin' over him dead at her feet that day ! 39 "HOLD ON AWHILE" When trouble an' trial wuz round us The ol' man would say, with a smile, " Worl' wuzn't made in a minute Hold on awhile ! " Nothin' could ever upset him Nuthin' his patience could rile : tc Wait jest a minute ! Ain't nuthin' much in it- Hold on awhile ! " An' when at the last he wuz goin', He said, with a farewell, sweet smile, u I'll wait fer you, boys, in that heaven o j joys, But hold on a while ! " 40 THE FALL OF FROST The fall o' the frost on the meadows ! An' ain't it a blessin' to you ? How crisp is the air in the woodlands ! An' bare footed boys in the dew Are singin' an' springin' an' swingin' their hats where the summer is lost : We are just on the threshold of winter for here is his herald the frost ! The fall o' the frost on the meadows ! I tell you, the apples are red, An' the cane-juice is sweet in the drippin' from the little mill under the shed ! The fields that were fleecy with cotton are now lookin' lonesome an' lost ; But the meadows the meadows are merry, for the hilltops are white with the frost ! The fall o' the frost on the harvest, an' isn't it spicy an' sweet ? Tune the old fiddle, an' follow its notes with the fall o' your feet ! Come in, Miss Mary ! Your partner has sorter been thinkin' you're lost ! An' we'll dance to the merriest music a welcomin' reel to the frost ! 41 THE STORY OF THE BONNET I'd made up my mind fer sartin that Jenny (you know that she Had named the day in her own sweet way the day she would marry me ?) Should have the purtiest bonnet that ever the store folks made One that would throw a rainbow just twenty mile in the shade ! Ever seen Jenny smilin' ? Ever took note of her eyes ? I toP her a angel made 'em from little blue patches o* skies ! Jest 'peared to twinkle sunshine ! an' whenever they look at me I see jest all o' heaven that ever I hope to see ! Well, I went down thar to the city, an' I toP the store folks plain, I wanted the finest bonnet that ever come in on the train ; An' I paid my money fer it 'thout any contendin* words : It wuz all fixed up with roses, an' ribbons, an' singin* birds. 42 THE STORY OF THE BONNET But now the trouble's a-comin' ! she wuz all in deep distress ; How wuz a ten-dollar bonnet to go with a caliker dress ? Mother she kinder shook her head ; said 'twould be " out o' place," An' Jenny, with tears a-fallin' on the roses of her face ! But her gran'ma come ter the rescue : u It's been seventy year," says she, " Sence I wore my weddin' dress, an' now it's good as it use to be : I've been a-keepin' it stored away but it saddens me now an' then ; An' seein' tomorrer's the Easter day, we'll make it over fer Jen ! " Jen throwed her arms around her 'till we heard the gran'ma say : " Ever you see sich a silly gal ? She'll smother me thataway ! Go 'long an' git yer scissors, an' all o* yer needles bright ; With a hat like that a weddin' dress is jest what'll set you right 1 " 43 UP FROM GEORGIA An* it did ! An' seein' she looked so sweet when the Easter day come 'roun', When meetin' wuz over, the license an' the parson wuz easy foun' ! An' I ain't a-lovin' Jenny any the more, or less, Kaze I married her Easter mornin' in gran'mother's weddin' dress ! 44 THE PRAYER FOR RAIN They've been a-preachin' it, people, that faith is a thing played out, That the angels never hear us when we sing to the skies, an' shout ; That if the world is beamin', it's Man that makes it bright That God's voice ain't in the thunder, an' His smile ain't in the light. They've been a-preachin' it, people, from the hilltops fur an' nigh ; That the rainbow's only a ribbon roun' the black dress o' the sky ; That there ain't no promise in it, like the Good Book said of old "It's only a dream," they tell us, with its purple an' its gold. They've been a-preachin' it, people, an* I've hearn 'em 'long the way ; But I thank the Lord above us there's faith in the world to-day ! 45 UP FROM GEORGIA Faith in the true and steadfast in the hearts that still believe The great an' glorious promise : " Ask, and ye shall receive ! " Listen ! The flowers were wiltin' in the gardens o' the May; An' June saw the lilies droopin' in the face o' the rainless day ; An' we said : " The craps still thirstin' by the valley an* the plain; The clouds of God above us, an' never a drap o' rain! " An' we sat in the gloom an' grumbled, an' scowled at the skies above, Till it come to our minds the rain-clouds were ruled by a God of Love ; An* that comfortin' word o' Scripture to all o' the hearts that grieve, Come to us then sweet-sayin' : " Ask, an' ye shall receive ! " An' the brotherin called a meetin' in the old church in the pines Blest by the summer blossoms, kissed of the climbln* vines 5 46 THE PRAYER FOR RAIN An' the preacher rose an' told us : u The Word o* the Lord is plain : Let us kneel in the Light of His Presence an' pray to the Lord for rain ! " The sky wuz jest like a oven blazin' all roun' with heat, But Faith saw the raindrops fallin' in coolin' showers an' sweet ; An', " Lord, send the rain," cried the preacher, " to the hill, an' the field, an' glen ! " An' the very gates of heaven were shook by a loud Amen ! " An' even as we prayed no wonder ! bowed in His presence there, We heard God's voice in the thunder the God that answers prayer ! We saw the flash o' the lightnin' on the field and the hillside, plain ! And we shouted : " Halleluia ! Thank God for the rain ! the rain ! " Oh, it fell like a benediction, on the dry an* sunburnt sod ; Till the hills seemed clappin' their hands for joy, an' the glad fields said, " Thank God ! " 47 UP FROM GEORGIA An' over its gracious Tallin' rose the shout o' the people then, With " Halleluia to heaven ! " an' the chorus : Amen ! Amen ! " Brotherin, the Bible's with us ! the promise is true today : When you're needin' the rain or the sunshine, git down on your knees an' pray ! Thanks be to God for His blessin's, for He's with us now as then : Jest shout " Halleluia ! " to heaven, an' the angels will say " Amen ! " THE LATER REST I He toiled, forever faithful, in the ways where Duty led, When earth seemed like a desert, and dark clouds overhead ; And, " Ain't you feelin' weary ! " . . . But still his word would be : " On the other side of Jordan there'll be rest forme ! " II The black storms beat above him : He saw, with saddened heart, The laborers in the vineyard, one after one, depart ; " Oh, rest you from the toiling ! There is no light to see!" . . . " On the other side of Jordan there'll be light for me." Ill " Rest, from the toil and trouble, tired hands and drooping head ; You do but gather roses for graves that hide your dead ! " But evermore that answer, clear-ringing, far and free : u On the other side of Jordan there'll be rest for me ! " 49 UP FROM GEORGIA IV And so he toiled, and toiling, gave earth a lesson sweet As the Love of God that showered Love's lilies at his feet; No earthly light could lure him no dark his faith could dim : On the other side of Jordan there was light for him ! AT ROLL CALL They answer up so smartly to the callin' o' the roll The night before the battle Ere the cannons roar and rattle, To the callin' to the callin' o' the roll. All here ! " Faces dear, To women weeping near Whose cheeks have lost the rose-tints, whose lips are white with fear, " All here All here ! " They answer up so faintly to the callin' o' the roll After the clashing battle When the guns have ceased to rattle, To the callin' to the callin' o' the roll. " Missing there ! " Faces dear To the women weeping near Heart broken, and with pallid lips too tremulous for prayer, " Missing there Missing there ! " 51 THE LAST OF THE GRENADIERS The tears from their eyes were falling from eyes that, unafraid, Had met the swords that glittered at the breasts of the Old Brigade : No wonder they heard the thunder that is echoing down the years, And the man that sang of the battle was the last of the grenadiers ! The last of the men that listened where blood like a river ran, And the guns of a leagued world glistened to the call of the Corsican ! That call that is ringing ringing over the wreck of years. (Ah ! he was singing singing the last of the grena diers !) He sang that day to the Old Brigade : " I was there, in the crimson fray, And I saw the Little Corporal in the Emperor's coat of gray ! 52 THE LAST OF THE GRENADIERS The man of the Bridge of Lodi, who rallied and led the men. 'Twas a deadlier dew at Waterloo, but we fought with the General then ! " He cried : ' 'Tis the guns of Grouchy ! Courage ! he comes he comes ! ' And the flags of the Old Guard fluttered, and they rushed to the rolling drums ! They rushed to the ridge, revengeful on the tigers crouched for prey And they fought as never a man had fought, for the Emperor's sake that day ! " They fought and died ! and side by side they filled the gulf of death, Yet still cried : ' Vive 1'Empereur ! ' with even their dying breath ! They fought and died with death defied those bayo nets dripping red And gave to France the glory of the brave, heroic dead ! 53 UP FROM GEORGIA " I saw him in the darkness after the fight was o'er: I saw him in the darkness, whom I shall see no more ! And the darkness closed around him, but as his form grew dim, I felt, where I lay bleeding, proud that I bled for him ! " The tears from their eyes were falling from eyes that were unafraid ; That had met the swords that glittered at the breasts of the Old Brigade : No wonder ! They heard the thunder that is echoing down the years, And the man that sang of the battle was the last of the Grenadiers ! 54 HE DANCES LIFE AWAY Does he ask how corn is sellin', or if cotton's up or down ? Is he bothered 'bout the country, or the stocks that make the town ? Is he worried 'bout the winter, is he sighin' fer the May? No ! A feller picks the banjer, an' he dances life away Does he shrink from all the toilin' in the white blaze o* the sun, In the hot sand o' the furrow where the larks before him run ? No ! You never find him tired ; when the sun has left the day A feller picks the banjer an' he dances life away ! No problem of the races in the hovel or the dome ; He knows his face is blacker than the chimney-back at home, But ever more it's smilin', an* he's happy night an* day, For a feller picks the banjer, an* he dances life away ! 55 DEAR LITTLE FELLOW I Dear little fellow, don't forget Leaving you now, that I love you yet ! Just as I did in a far, fair day When your eyes were light, and your smile was May, In the beautiful beautiful far-away ! Dear little fellow, don't forget Leaving you now, that I love you yet ! II Dear little fellow, don't forget Leaving you now, that my eyes are wet With tears for the years that may come to you When the shadows darken your eyes of blue, And the dreams are false where the dreams seemed true ! In the desolate darkness don't forget Leaving you now, that I love you yet ! Ill Dear little fellow ! Life is but this : A glad Good-morning a Good-night kiss A hope, a fear, and a falling tear 56 DEAR LITTLE FELLOW A cross to clasp and a cross to bear, And laurels and thorns for the brows to wear ! But dear little fellow, don't forget Leaving you now, that I love you yet ! 57 IN THE BRANCH I sit here dreamin', dreamm' of the dear oP country ranch, An 1 a barefoot boy a-wadin' in the cool an 1 shaded branch ; u Splash, splash ! " I hear the water, an' every ripple seems To make a rill o' music that's runnin' through my dreams ! " Splash, splash ! " the water goes ; Downward to the mill it flows ; What cares he for thorn or rose ? Water's cool that's all he knows ! I sit here dreamin', dreamin' of the sweeter light that shines On the wild blackberry blossoms an' the honeysuckle vines ; And " Splash ! " I hear the water that in the sunshine gleams, An' a rill o* music runnin' through the shadows o* my dreams ! " Splash, splash ? " the water goes ; Downward to the mill it flows ; Cares the boy for thorn or rose ? Water's cool that's all he knows ! 58 IN THE BRANCH I sit here dreamin', dreamin' till I seem to slip away, Where the water loved to ripple past meadows sweet with hay; Where dusky doves are wingin' in mornin's earliest beams An' the barefoot boy is singin' is singin' in my dreams ! u Splash, splash ! " the water goes ; Downward to the mill it flows ; What cares he for thorn or rose ? Water's cool that's all he knows ! 59 HIS BEST I " Fellers, I have done my best ! " So he said, and went to rest Like a child that, tired of play, At the closing of the day, Lays him on his mother's breast. II " Fellers, I have done my best ! " Hands where Death's cold lips were pressed Folded were, as if in prayer, In the after-silence there Folded gently o'er his breast. Ill All, in those last words expressed ! All of pain, of grief unguessed ! Who than this can better say At the closing of life's day " Fellers, 1 have done my best ! " 60 TEN ACRES AND MARY I'm up an' away At break o' day, An' never of work Fm weary ; For I sing this song As I toil along " Fve got ten acres an' Mary ! " Troubles enough For the worl' is rough, An' things will go contrary ; But ever this song As I trudge along " I've got ten acres an' Mary ! " No angel bright, With wings of light ; Of a angel I'd grow weary ; But a woman true, That's a joy to you " Fve got ten acres an' Mary ! " 61 IN HALLELUIA TOWN The namin' o' the settlement wuz hard to bring about ; Each feller made suggestions, an' still we wuz in doubt ; So, we helt a big town meetin', an' 'peared like providence We named her u Halleluia," an' we've all been happy sence ! They ain't no growlers in it on ever plain an* slope The sun is shinin' brightly the stars air whisperin' hope ; An' all the folks '11 tell you, for miles an' miles aroun', There ain't no thorns along the road to Halleluia Town ! 'Twuz inspiration in it that Halleluia name ! It brung about good feelin', it sot our souls aflame ! An* what to us air mansions in cities of renown, So long as we air happy in Halleluia Town ! 62 IN HALLELUIA TOWN For there the birds air singin', the fields air flowerin' fine ; The sun jest don't know nothin' but how to rise an' shine ! An' what a blessed world 'twould be without a care or frown, If folks would only emigrate to Halleluia Town ! A SONG IN APRIL I Here's to fickle love or true Hands that clasp to sever : Mistress Nell, a health to you Joy be yours forever ! April winds are out to-day, Blowing blossoms sweet your way. II Here's to fickle love or true, And a glad thanksgiving For that sky's unshadowed blue And the joy of living ! For that kinder love and sweet In the violets at your feet. Ill Love will come, and love will go Like the light on clover : It is but a dream, you know : Dreams so soon are over ! But for roses or for rue. Mistress Nell, a health to you ! IN FIELDS OF BLOOM I reckon I'm kin to the lilies : I toil not, an' never spin; I only answer to roll-call when the winds from the west blow in Over the dew-drenched medders over the song- sweet rills, An' the sun with a glad " Good-mornin' ' ' reads the dreams o' the drowsy hills. What do I want to toil fer, when the golden bee contrives To feed a feller on honey stored in the drippin' hives ; When I see the color creepin' to the peach's rosy roun' An' the red-ripe apples are fallin' an' dentin' the wet, sweet groun' ? Never was made fer a worker ; how kin I stack the hay Or follow the furrow when all the birds are singin' my soul away ? Singin' my soul away to the medder-grasses sweet ; With the green o' the boughs above me an' the violets at my feet ? 65 UP FROM GEORGIA Reckon I'm kin to the lilies that's what the workers say; Brother-in-law to the medder dressed fer the marriage with May; But I allus answer to roll-call though I toil not, an' never spin ; The roll-call o' the roses when the winds from the west blow in ! 66 THE MORNING I The good time that's coming is not far away ; The weariest Winter is dreaming of May ; Out o' the darkness the light o' day The morning ! the morning ! the morning ! II What of the sorrows of all the dark years What of the lost hopes, and what of the fears ? After the grief and the rain o' the tears The morning ! the morning ! the morning ! Ill Fast part the storm-clouds, unveiling the bright ; The ships hear the home-bells the harbor's in sight And we dream, and we drift evermore to the light The morning ! the morning ! the morning ! WHEN JENNY CAME ALONG Fishin' in the river, an' Jenny come along, Apern full o' flowers, an' singin' of a song; " Shame to ketch them fishes cruel 'tis an' wrong ! " That wuz what she tol' me when Jenny come along. Fishin' pole wuz noddin' fish a-pullin' strong; Never had sich luck as that, when Jenny come along ; Knowed she wuz a-comin', by the blossoms roun' the place ; Water, like a lookin' glass, showin' of her face. Wound up that 'ere tackle let the fishin' go : Walked with her through meadows, with daisies white as snow ; Wind a-blowin' in my face the bright locks round her brow : Never did like fishin' in a river, anyhow ! 68 IN CAMPMEETIN' TIME Gittin' to'rds campmeetin'-time fixin' up the tent, An' groomin' all the oxen in the Billville settlement ; We that ain't up on singin' air a-projickin' about, An' some air tryin' of their lungs to shout the loudest shout ! Some don't believe in shoutin', but to me it's cl'ar as day Ef a feller has religion it'll sometimes act that way ! It ain't no sign the angels air deef up thar on high, But we jest can't help a-sendin' in a halleluia cry ! Some preachers preach about it from mornin' till the night, An' say the shoutin' fellers ain't got religion right ! They rule it out o' meetin' ; but I feel it more an' more, A shipwrecked feller's 'bleeged to shout the time he sights the shore ! Fer he's been lost an' lonesome on the ocean's roarin' tide, An' when he sees the lights shine on the welcome other side, UP FROM GEORGIA It ain't a bit o' wonder, in the night o' storm an' foam, He shouts that shout o' welcome fer he hears the bells o' home ! But talkin' 'bout campmeetin' we're fixin' fer it fine ; An' ef it comes to shoutin', we'll ax the worP to jine ! We'll let each brother have his way each one that's feelin' blest An' tell us, any fashion, how he likes religion best f 70 THE SHIP'S COMING HOME Ever the light in the window the light that flared over the foam ; And ever the faith of a woman : " The ship's com ing home coming home ! " Ever the rose in the garden, when the wild larks were winging the loam ; And ever the faith of a woman : " The ship's com ing home coming home ! " In dreams, the brave call of the captains, from over the storm and the foam : u Keep bright the love-light in the harbor ! The ship's coming home coming home ! " Ever the beat of the billows the stars in the blue of the dome; And the wind that is waving the willows : u The ship's coming home coming home ! " And the weird, far call of the captains, and the toss of the turbulent foam ; And the voice of the faith of a woman : u The ship's coming home coming home ! " 71 "TOLLABLE WELL!" Spite o' the tempests a-blowin', Still had one story to tell : Bright, sunny weather, or snowin', Allus felt " tollable well." Half o' the settlement sighin' Things gone to ruin, pell-mell ! Never did hear him a-cryin' Allus felt tollable well ! " 'Course he had trouble an* sorrow (Come to us all fer a spell), But, seein' a brighter to-morrow, He allus felt tollable well." A POOR, PLAIN COLONEL I'd like to j'ine the army, an' go 'long with the re cruits : I'd be shore to show off handsome in them regimental boots ; I'd beat 'em all a-shinin' I'd throw 'em in the shade ; But I'm jest a poor, plain colonel, an' I ain't got no brigade ! I'd like to j'ine the army : I'd be shore to cut a dash, With spurs to make the mare go, an' a shiny sword an' sash; I'd make the finest record that a feller ever made ; But I'm jest a poor, plain colonel, an' I ain't got no brigade ! Oh, I'd like to j'ine the army : I'd be shore to make my way, An' beat the best o' brigadiers a-drawin' of their pay ! But I'm loafin' roun' the homestead eatin' melons in the shade ; Fer I'm jest a poor, plain colonel, and I ain't got no brigade ! 73 BEFORE A FINE OAK FIRE Who's talkin' 'bout the summer time When all the skies perspire ? Jest give me winter, brotherin', An' a fine oak fire I The sleety rain a-comin* down The wind a-howlin' higher Than all the steeples in the town, An' me before a fire, With " cider " settin' on the shelf The brand I most desire ; The blaze a-talkin' to itself The language o' the fire. That's when the coldest winter night A reg'lar picnic seems, The sparks a-flyin' left an' right, An' me a-dreamin' dreams ! That's when I'm comfortabler than I am on summer days When buds an blossoms bresh yer han' An vi'lets crowd the ways. 74 BEFORE A FINE OAK FIRE An' when a feller's dreamin' so His oP sweethearts come nigher, Love takes a seat an' warms his feet Before a fine oak fire ! 75 AN ANSWERED PRAYER Our John's been made a doctor so all the papers tell, An' he's lookin' 'roun' fer business, but the folks are keepin' well ; But his mother, she is hopeful, for he's got to pay his bills, An' she's asked the Lord fer measels an' a sprinklin' of the chills ! It's been a month, I reckon, sence they took an' turned him out, But the country is so healthy that the doctors are in doubt ; But his mother keeps on prayin', while he's dodgin' of his bills: An' she's asked the Lord fer measels an' a sprinklin' of the chills ! * These women has a lot o' faith they never loose their hold. (I wonder what's the matter now ? I'm gittin' kinder cold! The good Lord's gone an' answered her, an' John '11 pay his bills ; Fer if this here ain't the measels, it's a-sprinklin' of the chills !) 76 BLOOMS Fairy fingers o' the Frost, Whatsoever may be lost, Spare the blossoms of that tree Whose red blooms are life to me, Even the blooms of Memory ! In Life's garden it stands There, Braving storm and wintry air; When Life's scattered blooms I see Trampled where the black storms be, Faithful still to Memory. Fairy fingers o' the Frost, Let not these dear blooms be lost ! Pass them by all pityingly, Let the May their mother be In a land of Memory ! 77 AT THE OPERA I've been an' heerd the opery an' I reckon it wuz grand ; But the music I've been raised to is " Dixie " by the band; " Way Down in Alabama," an' " Darlin' Nelly Gray," An' that hifalutin' singing made a feller lose his way ! An' then, the words wuz furrin', an' I r'aly never knowed How to track 'em an' to keep 'em in the middle o' the road; Fer what I wuz a-wantin' but I hoped fer it in vain Wuz a lively double-shuffle, an' " Han's Roun', Liza- Jane ! " But the folks applauded lively, till all the house wuz stirred, Though them that cheered the loudest couldn't under stand a word ! An' I hired of a feller fer a quarter of a dollar, To nudge me at the proper time, an' tell me when to holler. 78 AT THE OPERA I stood it out, right noble, an' when the thing wuz through, Sez I : " I reckon that you done the best you all could do ; But you didn't hit me heavy ! " an' I struck on comin' down, A feller whistlin' " Dixie," an' follered him roun' town ! 79 OUR COUNTRY'S CALL With trump to trump replying Still bright her sabres shine, With all her old flags flying And all her men in line. She calls them from the highlands Where tower her green hills free The far Atlantic islands Still answer from the sea ! They come as in the darkened And deadly days of yore, When to the cry they hearkened And braved the battle's roar ! Her cause is never dying Still bright her sabres shine, With all her old flags flying, And all her men in line ! 80 AS THE BOYS GO MARCHING BY Doesn't it thrill a fellow make a glitter in his eye And a fidget in his footsteps when the boys go marching by ? Old mem'ries throng around him with no regret or sigh. He hails the shining columns as the boys go march ing by ! He seems to hear the rattle of the rifles once again, As in the days God's daisies were reddened by the rain. The clamor of the captains the charge and the retreat, And thinks of Love that listens for unreturning feet. Doesn't it thrill a fellow ? Wrinkled and gray he stands ; But oh ! the gleam o' bayonets, and the banners and the bands ! The white hair falling over the brows of the old-time braves, As they answer to the roll-call over their comrades' graves. 81 UP FROM GEORGIA Love of a common country : Peace on the plain and hill: And peace where the boys are marching to the far tents, white and still. North and South in the union, and never a tear or sigh; But doesn't it thrill a fellow when the boys go march ing by ! 82 THE MIRACLE DAYS Good folks, the days o' miracles ain't past an' gone away : The weather man predicted snow, an' here's the snow to-day ! They know the path the sun an' moon air travellin' so they do They've tracked the stars of heaven an' caught the comets, too ! They know jest how the oF world rolls they've got it down by heart ; They know the cyclone's comin' 'fore it ever makes a start ! They know the awful distance from here up to the sun ; They've counted all the worlds above, an' named 'em every one ! Ain't nuthin hidden from 'em they know the all-in- all ! When obstacles air risin' they batter down the wall An' stand in all the glory an' beauty o' the light, A-givin' out this verdict that there shall be no night ! 83 UP FROM GEORGIA An' I r'a'ly wouldn't wonder, at the pace we're bein' led, J Ef they shook the world like thunder by the raisin' o' the dead ! Fer, step by step they're goin' upon the upward way r Till a feller's glad he's livin' in a world like this to day ! 84 A PRETTY GOOD WORLD Pretty good world if you take it all round Pretty good world, good people ! Better be on than under the ground Pretty good world, good people ! Better be here where the skies are as blue As the eyes of your sweetheart a-smilin' at you Better than lyin' 'neath daisies and dew Pretty good world, good people ! Pretty good world with its hopes and its fears Pretty good world, good people ! Sun twinkles bright through the rain of its tears Pretty good world, good people ! Better be here, in the pathway you know Where the thorn's in the garden where sweet roses grow, Than to rest where you feel not the fall o' the snow Pretty good world, good people ! Pretty good world ! Let us sing it that way Pretty good world, good people ! Make up your mind that you're in it to stay At least for a season, good people ! 85 UP FROM GEORGIA Pretty good world, with its dark and its bright Pretty good world, with its love and its light ; Sing it that way till you whisper, u Good-night ! 3 Pretty good world, good people ! 86 SINGING HIM TO SLEEP The river's singin' to the sea the river cool an* deep, An' the reason that I know it is it's singin' me to sleep ! Past all the plains an' medders past fiel's whar folks '11 reap, It's singin' me to sleep, folks it's singin' me to sleep ! Singin' me to sleep Whar they sow an' reap In the shadders O' the medders It's singin' me to sleep ! It's jest a-lazyin' along ; no track o' time I keep ; I only know the river's song is singin' me to sleep. The busy worl' is workin' the busy worP must weep, But the river as it ripples on is singin' me to sleep ! Singin' me to sleep Whar they sow an' reap In the shadders O' the medders It's singin' me to sleep ! 87 UP FROM GEORGIA I ain't got no ambition ; the hills air mighty steep ! I'm happier whar the river is singin' me to sleep. Never did like workin' too hot to sow or reap ; I only wish the river could sing the worP to sleep ! Singin' me to sleep : Folks that work must weep ; But in shadders O' the medders It's singin' me to sleep ! 88 THE BLESSED RAIN Dear heart, dost thou complain When the kind God sends rain ? Think of the thirsting crops That drink the beady drops Think of the flowers, unfolding all their sweets The city's burning streets, The famished flocks upon the mountain tops The windless casements where the sick in vain Cry for the cool, sweet rain ! Think and thank God For every drop that quivers on a clod ! OUT IN THE WEATHER Out in the weather, with the blooms and with the birds ! Set the sweetest music to the sweetest human words ! Ring, bells, ring ! And blossoms sway and swing ! For all the world is love, my dear, when all the world is spring. Out in the weather, with the blossoms and the breeze, The sunshine's gold and silver on the tresses o' the trees ! Ring, bells, ring ! While birds in music sing ! All the world is love, my dear, when all the world is spring ! Out in the weather the weather fair and free ! And a river, and a meadow, and a mocking-bird for me! Ring, bells, ring, Where pink the blossoms swing ! For all the world is love, my dear, when all the world is spring. 90 AN INDIAN-SUMMER DAY Afar in tangles mazy Are gold and scarlet gleams ; But golden-rod and daisy Tell not the winds their dreams, But even the winds seem dead, for they Ruffle no rose-leaf on their way. And yonder where the hill is No blade no bloom is stirred j Still are the water-lilies : There is no whispered word To wake the world, that wakes to weep : Let it sleep let it sleep ! A ROCKABY SONG He all time winkin' at me wid his li'l shiny eye He de worrienst er chillum fer ter make 'im rockaby ! I wonders why dey let 'im leP de playgroun' in de sky! He won't go ter sleepy twell de mawnin' ! I tells 'im 'bout de creeturs dat '11 come en' ketch 'im sho' Ef his li'l eyes stay open better shet de sleepy do' ! But bless his honey-sweetness ! w'y, he only wink de mo' !- He won't go ter sleepy twell de mawnin' ! But ain't his face a pictur ? Sweetest one I ever see 5 En' dem eyes er his is bluer dan de sky kin hope ter be; " En' I sorter feels dat heaven's keepin' company wid me Whar he won't go ter sleepy twell de mawnin' ! 92 GOODBY, MISTER RAIN Sunshine jest a-comin' down 'Crost de hill en plain ! Now Miss Nancy drive ter town Goodby, Mister Rain ! She gwine buy dat Easter hat ; (Won't she look too sweet in dat ?) Make dem beaux say : " Whar she at ? " Goodby, Mister Rain ! Lizard lookin' mighty spry, Run lak railroad train ! Spread he blanket out ter dry Goodby, Mister Rain ! Rabbit rise up in de grass See Miss Nancy gwine pass ; Bluebird sing : " She come at las' ! " Goodby Mister Rain ! Wes' Win' say : " I'll run a race Down dat hill en plain ; Gwine ter kiss Miss Nancy face ! " Goodby, Mister Rain ! Red Rose say : " I up ter dat ! She gwine wear me on her hat, Make dem beaux say c Whar she at ? ' Goodby, Mister Rain ! 93 HOE YOUR ROW De fiel's '11 soon be hummin' Roun' de country high en low ; De harves' is a-comin' : Hoe yo' row ! Hoe yo' row ! No time now fer de sleeper ; It's " Git up now, en go ! " It's de sower makes de reaper; Hoe yo' row ! Hoe yo' row ! It's sweet de birds is singin' De songs you lovin' so ; But de harves' bells is ringin' ; Hoe yo' row ! Hoe yo' row ! 94 HIS TIME FOR SINGING Chicken-hawk a-sailin' high, Hoppergrass a-springin' ; Come 'long, Mister Mockin'-bird, Hit's yo' time fer singin' ! Brown straw in de bluebird bill, Cattle-bells a-ringin' ; Wake up, Mister Mockin'-bird, Hit's yo' time fer singin' ! Swallow in de ol'-time gourd Havin' fun a-swingin' ; Rouse up, Mister Mockin'-bird, Hit's yo' time fer singin' ! 95 THE COLORED DANCING MATCH i 'Twuz in de dancin' season w'en de fros' wuz layin' roun' En de rabbit wuz a-gwine lak a gray ghos' 'cross de groun' Wen de lazies'er niggers wuz a-comin' ter de scratch Dat we took de whole plantation wid de cullud Dan- cm' Match. 2 De prize wuz lemme see now ; Two hams, a sid er meat, Sack er flour, en a jimmyjohn what had a mouth ez sweet Ez a hive a-drippin' honey ez a red rose, w'en de dew Sorter tilts it, 'twell it's leanin' ter de bees what drinks ter you. 3 De flo' wuz smooth en sanded, de fiddler in his place De lively music ripplin' 'cross de wrinkles in his face En lightin' up de eyes er him, en tinglin' ter his feet : " Good Times in Ole Verginny," en " Kentucky's Hard ter Beat ! " 96 THE COLORED DANCING MATCH 4 De schedule fer de dancin' wuz " All git in de ring ! " En " Who'll hoP out de longes' whilst dey got a foot ter fling ! " Dey wuz twenty answer roll-call, lak a sojerin' brigade, En dey never wuz sich dancin' sence a fiddle-string wuz made ! 5 En couple after couple fagged out en short er breath Went reelin' f'um dat dancin' 'fo' dey dance deyse'f ter death ! All of 'em 'cept Br'er Williams : he wuz in de ring fer sho', En his foots des kep' a-kickin' er de white san' f'um de flo' ! 6 De fiddlestick a-flyin', de lights a-gittin' low, De music in a gallop, en Br'er Williams on de go ! " You wins de prize, Br'er Williams ! " But still de fiddler played, En lightnin' wuzn' nuthin' ter de steps Br'er Will iams made ! 97 UP FROM GEORGIA 7 He dance so fas', I tell you he paralyze dem folks ; Lak a wagon-wheel a-gwine 'twell you des can't see de spokes ! Wid shuffle, shuffle, shuffle, en many a turn en twist, His form a-gittin' misty, en de fiddler in de mist ! 8 De lights gone out ; de owl hoot ; de dogs begin ter bark, En Br'er Williams lookin' ghos'-like wid dat dancin' in de dark ! Out de winders jumped de people ; de mules com mence ter prance, En 'twuz, " Good Lawd, he'p Br'er Williams, fer de devil's in de dance ! " 9 Dey galloped 'cross de country de wagon's rattlin' 'long ; But still heerd dat fiddle gwine in a mos' andy'ir? song ! En lookin' back, dey sighted in de skeery-lookin' light Br'er Williams still a-dancin' lak a shadder in de night. THE COLORED DANCING MATCH 10 En in de dancin' season, Pum de valley en de hill Dey kin see'Br'er Williams dancin' heah de fiddle playin' still, En heah de night owls hootin', see de ole ha'nts stan'in' round', Whilst Br'er Williams' ghos' is movin' ter de fiddle's squeaky soun'. ii En dar he'll dance ferever, w'en de fros' is Tallin' gray; En dat terrifyin' fiddler makes de same oF fiddle play ; You kin heah de flo' a-creakin', en de win' all mo'n- ful sighs ; En we don't want no mo' dancin' whar de devil wins de prize ! 99 "DES A LI'L' CABIN" Des a KT cabin, en a white road leadin' ter it ; I Toilers up de furrer, en I hoe de cotton fer it ; Chillun on de flo', En a woman in de do', Singin' en singin' in de mawnin'. Des a KT cabin in de shadder er de pines, Frame wid honeysuckles en de mornin' glory vines ; LiT spot o' groun' Wid de chillun playin' roun', Singin' en singtn' in de mawnin'. Des a li'P cabin whar de firelight I see, Twinklin' er a welcome 'cross de cotton fields ter me. Sayin' : u Whar you roam Heah's yo' home, yo home, yo' home ! " Singin' en singin' in de mawnin'. Des a li'P cabin ; yit it frequent 'pears so high, Dey kin hear what we a-sayin' in de mansions in de sky! Dis word de sweet word said " Give us our daily bread ! " Singin' en singin' in de mawnin'. 100 DES A Li 'L ' CABIN Des a liT cabin whar de blue smoke rise en curl, Kin hoP enough er happiness ter reach eroun' de worl' ! Dey tells me dat I po' But de woman's in de do' Singin' en singin' in de mawnin'. IOT A SPRINGTIME PHILOSOPHER I kin tell w'en Springtime comin' by de mos' onfall- in* signs ; Tain't de risin' sap what tingle ter de tip-top er de pines, Or de fros' what leP de furrer, or de larks a- fly in' low Or de whistle er de pa'tridge kaze he love his sweet heart so ! But I sorter hez a feelin' what I dunno how ter call, Dat ef I wuz a blossom I'd hang low, en never fall ! Dat ef Gabrul blowed his trumpet fer de sleepin' folks ter rise I'd des feel too contented fer ter wake en rub my eyes ! Hit's somepin' in de elements de blowin' er de breeze, De listenin' er de lily fer de comin' er de bees ; De lazy river gwine 'long a-feelin' er his way Ter de medders, en sweet places whar de honey suckles stay. IO2 A SPRINGTIME PHILOSOPHER De sun, he say " Good-mawnin' ! " whar de fiel's is drench wid dew, En I des ain't enterprisin' 'nuff ter tell 'm, " Same ter you ! " De trees, dey tells me u Howdy ! We a-dressin' fer de show, En soon we'll meet de mockin' birds en swing 'em high en low ! " But I never makes no answer ! I des lays back so still En lazy in de sunshine lak I los' my way en will ! Wid eyes shet tight, en dreamin' in my app'inted place, I wouldn't bresh a bluefly Pum de furrers in my face ! Oh, I knows w'en Spring's a comin', en I done laid down my rule, Dat I wuzn't bo'n fer plowin' en gee-hawin' er de mule, But fer listenin' ter de cattle bells 'cross daisies cool en deep, Wid de feelin' what de trees hez w'en dey rocks de birds ter sleep ! 103 TWO VIEWS OF IT Wen de blizzard blow my neighbor house Clean off de whole plantation, En he weep en cry, En moan en sigh, En he fin' hisse'f lef ' high en dry Dat's done fer his soul's salvation ! Wen de blizzard blow my house away, En I howls lak all creation, Hit's plain ez day En a furrer in May, (I des don't keer what my neighbor say.) Dat's a mighty strange dispensation ! 104 THE WAY TO THE MELON PATCH Don't want no moon, en not one match Fer ter light my way ter de melon patch ; Night or day (Dat what I say !) I kin shet my eye en fin' my way ! De road ez white ez a streak er light ; But I takes de path whar de san' ain't bright ; Kaze de white man wait By de shotgun gate, Fer ter blow me clean 'cross Georgy state ! So, take yo' moon, en keep yo' match ; I knows my way ter de melon patch ! Night or day, Whilst you watch en pray, I shets my eye en I fin's my way ! 105 SWING DEM SISTERS Th'ow some white san' on dat flo' Put some rozzum on dat bow ; Dis heah's Chris'mus time fer sho' Swing dem sisters ! Do dat ol' time fiddle proud ! Call de riggers call 'em loud ! Who dance bes' in all de crowd ? Swing dem sisters ! Han's all roun', en' " Short'in Bread ; Fling yo' boots an' ben' yo' head ; Dance ontell you shake de shed Swing dem sisters ! Winders rattlin', en de wall Shakin' lak' he gwine ter fall ! Come in one, en come in all Swing dem sisters ! 106 FOR CHRISTMAS GRACE I ax de Lawd fer Chris'mus grace Ter sen' dese chillun some ; But dar's no chimbly ter de place, How Santy Claus gwine come ? I wonders whar we all so po', Ef he'll come knockin' at de do' ? In dey sweet sleep de chillum stir Dey heahs de bells in town ; I wish we had a chimbly fer De ol' man ter come down ! You reckon, whar we's all so po% Dat he'll come knockin' at de do* ? 107 A FIELD SONG I up fo' day En on my way (" Plow dat furrer ter de en' ! ") All day long De same ol' song " Plow dat furrer ter de en' ! " O believers You dat sow en reap, De sun shine hot In ever' spot But you ain't got time ter sleep ! De jaybird, say " Hit's a holiday- Plow dat furrer ter de en' ! " De fiel'-lark 'low, " Dey got you now ! Plow dat furrer ter de en' ! " O believers You dat sow en reap, De sun shine hot In ever' spot, But you ain't got time ter sleep ! 108 A FIELD SONG But I plows I does Whar de melon wuz, De bes' dat de good Lawd sen' ; En fum north ter souf I smacks my mouf Ez I plows dat furrer ter de en* ! O believers You dat sow en reap You'll sho' feel prime In de melon time, But you won't have time ter sleep ! 109 A SONG OF TO-MORROW Li'P bit er trouble, Honey, fer terday ; Yander come Termorrer Shine it all away ! Rainy Sky is sayin', " Dis'll never do ! Fetch dem rainbow ribbons, En I'll dress in blue ! " 1 10 MARCH AND APRIL Mister March gone howlin' Des lak he drunk wid dram : He fling his fros' at Aperl En hit de steeples ba-am ! But Aperl, in his rosy yard, He say, " Go 'long, you ole blowhard ! " De Vi'lets hunt fer kiver. * De peach blooms lef ' de place, De half-dress' Lily shiver, De Rose red in de face ! But Aperl say : " My task is plain : I'll beat you back wid silver rain ! " En den he git a armful Er all his lilies white, En take his rain en roses En pelt 'im out er sight ! But March, he say dat he don't keer, I bet you I'll be back nex' year ! " ill HIS SONG OF MONEY I tellen' you, my honey, Dat you better make de money Whilst de light is still a-shinin' in de skies ; Whilst de weather lookin' sunny Ain't de bees a-makin' honey ? Hit's de money, Oh, my honey, wins de prize ! I tellin' you, my honey, You kin buil' a worl' wid money, En brighten up its winter en its spring ; De bigges' gate is swingin' W'en de dollar come a-ringin' Dey allus know de dollar by its ring ! But, atter all, my honey, W'en you gives yo' life fer money, En de shadders 'gin ter gether roun' you fas', W'en trouble come a-sighin', En de heart er you is cryin', Hit's Love dat bring de comfort ter you las' ! 112 THE WAY LOVE LEADS I Thorns or flowers in life may be, But the way Love leads is the way for me, II Never a question, never a fear Under God's heaven, if Love be near. Ill Bitter the burdens of life, but still I bear them meekly at Love's sweet will. IV Knowing that Love of life is Lord, Not a rewarder, but a Reward ! DEAR, TOILING HANDS I Made for a throne, to give a queen's commands, That glad hearts might obey, These beautiful and love-kissed, tender hands Yet toil along life's way. II Frail as a lily, bowed upon its stem, With the spring rains impearled, Surely the kind God did not fashion them To battle with a world ! Ill Made for the sweetest kiss that love bestows Not for a cruel strife ; In life's sweet gardens they should reap the rose- Not the red thorns of life ! IV Dear hands of Duty, in a life of loss Fighting against despair Where a cold world would nail them to a cross And leave them bleeding there. 114 DEAR, TOILING HANDS V They shiver in the wintry cold ; they know Never the kiss of Rest. Would that the world its pity would bestow And warm them at Love's breast ! VI Dear hands ! that make each sacrifice complete Of Love that dares so much ! Some child's brow, bending for a blessing sweet, Is aching for your touch ! VII Some home, in whose dim halls no lovelight shines, Would at your will grow bright ; Yearning for you to trim the blossoming vines Loveward, toward the light ! VIII Yet, toiling ever, in bleak, barren ways Bound as with iron bands, Take from a singer this poor meed of praise, Dear, faithful, serving hands ! UP FROM GEORGIA IX Holy with service ! On this flowerless sod Not vainly you have striven : Toiling for Love, dear hands ! you toil for God And so, take hold on heaven ! 116 THE VICTORY OF PEACE Spring, with her banners gold and green, With her splendid suns and her stars serene, Smiles in the peace that comes after the fray ; And under the arch of the April skies The starry flag of the Union flies Comrades ! over your breasts to-day. Forward ! March ! to the roll of the drum The loyal sons of the Southland come ' Not to the battle ! the cannon's roar Is heard in the forests and fields no more ; The sweetest roses in all the South, Blossoming up from the stainless sod, With incense sweet as they smile to God, Have sealed with silence its iron mouth. Your guns are stacked and your swords are sheathed, And your brows with the laurels of Peace are wreathed. It is after the battle ; what sounds are here ? The songs of birds on the scented air ; 117 UP FROM GEORGIA The murmurous sigh of the inland gales ; The voice of the rivers that dashing free, Move in melody out to sea By murmurous meadows and violet vales ; Where once, in the strife and the passion and pain, Rose the shout of the victor, the cry of the slain. It is after the battle ; the fight is done ; The victory lost and the victory won ! And ye, who fared to the fight and shed Your blood on the battle fields, come to-day Thinned brigades from the far-away, To the silent hillocks that hide your dead ! Halt ! there are heroes that slumber here, And ye are such for the wounds ye bear ! Beat, ye drums, with no muffled sound ! Let the bugles echo the camps around ! And still three cheers for the boys in gray ! For whether they lived, or whether they died, The South by their valor is glorified And rich in her record of love to-day ! Sons of the South ! there's a victory sweet That comes to the brave in the ranks of defeat ! 118 THE VICTORY OF PEACE Here are they lying, the ones that shed 'I 'heir blood for the South till her vales ran red, And her rivers blushed with the crimson tide ! Honor them ! Over their graves the years Have scattered their roses and showered their tears And Southern women have knelt and sighed. Honor them ! Honor was theirs, and fame Enshrines in glory each deathless name. The flag that they bore to the fight is furled, Hidden away from the new-made world, And trailed in the dust are its crimson bars ; The beautiful flag ! and they loved it so, But that is now in the long-ago, When the heavens were beaming with hope ful stars ; Yet rare is the garland that o'er them waves Whose crimson shadow falls on their graves. And Peace, like a beautiful angel, broods O'er the fertile fields and the solitudes Of a land made bright by the smile of God ; And dearest blessing of all to-day, The foes who fought in the far-away, Are re-united on this dear sod, 119 UP FROM GEORGIA Which blossoms over the slain of war Friends ! was it love we were fighting for ? Oh, love is ours. Though the fight was sore, It is ended now we are friends once more ! Once more thank God ! we can proudly stand, And looking back on the bloody past, Say : " It is over at last at last ! " With heart to heart and with hand to hand, Over and here, in the sight of heaven, We do forgive, as we are forgiven. And thus forgiven, brave hearts and true, The boys in gray and the boys in blue Your higher mission at last is done, And though o'er the graves of our dead we weep, We can trust them all to the tender keep Of the God who guides us and makes us one ! One in the union which shall not cease Till the flags are furled in the Port of Peace. 1 20 JEAN Jean my Jean with the eyes of light An' the beautiful, soft brown hair, D'ye know that I'm longin' for you to-night For your lips, for the clasp of your hand so white, An' the thrill o' your voice so dear ? Jean my Jean of the glances bright, Where the smile shines through the tear^ D'ye know that I'm callin' to you to-night Where the seagulls cry like ghosts in flight, An' the dark falls lone an' drear ? Jean my Jean where the snow drifts white Through the answerless, icy air, Ah, would to God you were here to-night, Braiding your beautiful tresses of light, An' that I were lying there ! 121 THE RIDE WITH MOLLY The bees were in the blossoms and the woods were white as snow, With miles and miles o' daisies in a springtime long ago; And the winds from dreaming meadows came with kisses sweet and kind When I drove the cows from pasture and Molly rode behind. I remember all about it the pathway through the dells, Where the old mare timed her footsteps to the music of the bells That clanked the whole way homewards to the merry milking place, But mostly I remember Molly's curls about my face ! For riding there behind me, every breeze a-blowing free Would catch 'em and would kiss 'em and toss 'em over me ! 122 THE RIDE WITH MOLLY And sometimes, too, I turned my head to see her bright eyes shine, And our faces came together and her lips were close to mine ! I didn't mind the labor in the fields or in the glades The long and weary furrows where the young corn waved its blades, For I knew that ere the twilight came a sweet reward I'd find I'd drive the cows from pasture and Molly'd ride be hind ! And once the folks got anxious, and said : " The cows are late," And they looked and looked for Molly and the old mare at the gate ; And the reason was I'd " said the word," and kinder spoke my mind : The old mare ran away with me and Molly rode be hind ! 123 THE WOMAN'S SONG They'll never have done with the fightin' on land an' over sea ; Government Government, what does it care what does it care for me ? Bugles must blow an' flags must wave, an' the muffled drums must beat, An' what to a lass is a lover when they lay him dead at her feet ? They'll never have done with the fightin'. Forward the columns sweep ; I hear the shout o' the captains as I tend the hearth an' weep. Far off an' faint but I hear it; an' a white, dead face I see Under the sod in the grave that God an' government make for me ! His hair was like the raven's wing. (I joy that my lips have prest, As it fell in its flowing beauty, this dark lock on my breast ! ) 124 THE WOMAN'S SONG An' his brave, bright eyes looked love to mine the eyes I shall never see 'Till God at the great white Judgment Day shall give him back to me. Bible they've got for battles : For men have fought an' died Ere the Prince of Peace said strife should cease the Prince that they crucified ; Though a woman's tears bedew the years, shall they stay the crimson tide ? What can you do with government, with Bible on its side ? Men must fight the battles ; lover an' lass must part ; But what is a star of glory to a woman's broken heart ? Government's right, they tell me, an' the wrong must righted be : Give the lass then to her lover an' my dead love back to me ! 125 HER TALKING EYES Mollie is graduating an' they say she's goin' to speak A little piece in Latin, an' another piece in Greek. I dunno nuthin' about 'em : I'm dull as a dunce could be, But Moll has a way of talkin' with her dear, sweet eyes, to me ! What do I keer for Latin ? It's Greek to me, I say ! But I understan' the language when her bright eyes look my way ! I know she's thar', on the platform ; I hear her sweet voice speak : But her eyes they're talkin' English to the heart that don't know Greek ! I hear the folks applaudin' : I hear 'em, an' I say : " They dunno nuthin' about the eyes that are lookin' her lover's way ! " But I read 'em ; an' feel more thankful than ever my heart kin speak, That her dear eyes talk in English to the heart that don't know Greek ! 126 THE LITTLE ONE AWAY World ain't like it used to be colder skies in May ; Summer ain't so sweet to me. The little one's away ! Wish the birds a-singing could reach the ones that roam ; Wish the sweet bells ringing could ring my darling home ! Sit here in the sunshine, solemn-like , and see Morning glories peeping in where once she used to be; They loved her little window, with the blossoms and the lights ; Gave her glad good mornings, kissed her sweet good- nights. Sit here in the darkness, when no winds the maples stir, And hear the silence singing a sad, sweet song of her ; I know the lilies dream of her, with her the roses roam, And sunflowers shine like stars of gold and lean to light her home. 127 UP FROM GEORGIA World ain't what it used to be skies are cold and gray; Summer ain't as sweet to me : The little one's away ! Wish the birds a-singing could reach the ones that roam ; Wish the glad bells ringing could ring my darling home ! 128 WHAT THE TOYS SAID The Hobby Horse said, As he shook his head : " It's a long, long ways to go O'er the white snow's foam To the little boy's home ; But I hear the tin horns blow, And must race away 'till I'm out o' breath To the Little Boy who will ride me to death ! " And the Toy Drum said : " I've a hardened head, And away on my sticks I'll go From this icy dome To the Little Boy's home I can beat my way through the snow ! Away ! away ! 'till I'm out o' breath, To the Little Boy who will beat me to death ! " And the Toy Doll said, As her gold-crowned head Shone over the wintry snow : " To the Little Girls Of the golden curls In a fairy coach I'll go ; 129 UP FROM GEORGIA Far far away, 'till I'm out of breath, To the Little Girls who will kiss me to death ! " But the Elephant said : " If that way I'm led, And they treat you all so bad, I tell you now That there'll be a row, And they'll wish they never had ! For I'll pack them all in my trunk, you see, And lock it, and throw away the key ! " 130 MISS MARY I miss Miss Mary fum de place ; She take the blossom track ; I 'fraid de river steal her face En den won't give it back ! Fer ever' time she pass I heah de river say : " Miss Mary, heah's yo' lookin'-glass I wish you look dis way ! " I miss Miss Mary fum de place ; De sun done gone ter bed ; De red rose 'low he lonesome now De lily hang her head. En ever'whar she pass I heah dem wil' flowers say : " Heah's a dewdrap fer yo' lookin'-glass Miss Mary, look dis way ! " WE'LL GET ON THE BRIGHTER SIDE Toil in the cities, and till the ground ; The world is green and wide, And some of these days, when the world turns round, We'll get on the brighter side ! Sow and reap, and work, and weep For the blessings that are denied ; And some of these days, in the morning's rays, We'll get on the brighter side. Some of these days, in the thorny ways Will the lilies of joy abide ; The birds will sing, and the bells will ring, And we'll get on the brighter side. Then toil in the cities, and till the ground, Whatever may be denied ; For some of these days, when the world turns round, We'll get on the brighter side ! 132 NAMING THE BABY We jest can't git a name fer him but I'm a-keepin' still ! Ef they name him " William Jinkins," why, they're shore to call him " Bill ! " The mother thought of " Moses," but the goodness gracious knows Ef she ever slaps that name to him he'll trot along as Mose ! " The preacher said " Ezekiel " wuz the name we orter seek; But I floored him when I tol' him they would cut it down to " Zeke ! " An' then he sprung " Jehosophat " but still he met with loss, Fer I tol' him, shore as preachin', they would halter him to " Hoss ! " We run all through the catalogue, but not a name we foun' But offered fine inducements fer the folks to cut it down ! 133 UP FROM GEORGIA But last, the mother up en said it made the preacher nod : u He's sich a heavenly blessin' we'll jest call him * Grace o' God ! ' " 134 HOW THE OLD MAN WENT HOME (John Spraddley, a Former Slave, and Faithful Servant.) I Three score years and ten he went Singing along his way content, With never a thought or wish to roam : " Heah's my people, en heah's my home ! Heah's de house whar de ole man bo'n De cotton blooms, en de fiePs er co'n ; But all but him en de house is gone ! Done crossed over de Jordan tide En reached de home on de yuther side." Never a thought or wish to roam : " Heah's my people, en heah's my home ! " II He died to-day in the old home place; And the light that fell on his dying face Was bright as the light of that city of white Where never is weeping, and never night. And the old, firm friends there, at his side, Marvelled much as the old man died To see the dark brows glorified ! 135 UP FROM GEORGIA An' he said as the light in his sight grew dim : " I trusts de Lawd, en I friends wid Him ! " Never a thought or wish to roam : But he found his people, and reached his home ! DAT'S MY LI'L' BOY Don' keer how he rompin' roun'- Fill de house wid joy ; Le' 'm play en have his way : Dat's my li'l' boy ! Go ter school twell holiday, Wid his book en toy ; u Beats de Ian'," de teacher say, Dat's my li'l' boy ! Mammy gittin' oP ; I spec' Soon she'll miss de joy Er his a'ms eroun' her neck : Good-by, li'l' boy ! THE ABSENCE OF PHILIP Sweet Laura now the cypress twines And far her heart must roam ; For Philip's in the Philippines, And Philip pines for home ! A lovely maiden, all forlorn, No joy her sorrow checks ; All night she weeps, till dewey morn Shines on the Dewey decks. And Philip sighs from dark to dawn, By sad misfortune schooled, And writes eight saffron pages on Manila wrapping (ruled). And Laura weeps to read the lines, And looks across the foam ; For Philip's in the Philippines, And Philip pines for home ! 138 THE RIPPLING OF OLD GLORY They'd better all be keerful, An' look out whar they tread ! I never seen Old Glory A-ripplin' out so red ! She's like a million rainbows Way up thar on the shed, With the stars of states a-twinklin', An' the old stripes ripplin' red ! Be keerful mighty keerful ! Thar's trouble overhead ; I never seen Old Glory A-ripplin' out so red I JUST WHISTLE When times are bad an folks are sad An' gloomy day by day Jest try your best at lookin' glad An' whistle 'em away. Don't mind how troubles bristle 5 Jest take a rose or thistle. Hold your own An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle ! A song is worth a world o' sighs. When red the lightnings play, Look for the rainbow in the skies An' whistle 'em away. Don't mind how troubles bristle, The rose comes with the thistle. Hold your own An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle ! 140 JUST WHISTLE Each day comes with a life that's new, A strange, continued story, But still beneath a bend o' blue The world rolls on to glory. Don't mind how troubles bristle ; Jest take a rose or thistle. Hold your own An' change your tone An' whistle, whistle, whistle ! 141 WHAT THE CAR WHEELS SANG I With a scream of the whistle our farewell said. And into the blackness of night we sped On and on To meet the dawn, Under the sky where the stars burned red ; Past hills that stood where the snows were shed, Ghostly-white as the shrouded dead ; On and on To meet the dawn : True hand at the throttle and hope ahead ! The steel rails ringing The swift wheels singing : "To kith and kin, O hearts that roam In vine-wreathed cot, and marble dome, Over the world we bear you home ! II Whirled through the dark where the black steed drives Are joys and sorrows of human lives ; Laughing and weeping, And children sleeping 142 WHAT THE CAR WHEELS SANG On the breasts of glad mothers ; and wistful wives ; The clank of chains and the grip of gyves ! On and on To meet the dawn Where Light the soul of the Darkness shrives ! The steel rails ringing The mad wheels singing : " To gloom or gladness, O hearts that roam To darkened dwelling or marble dome Over the world we bear you home ! " III There are hearts that listen with hope and fear For the signal shrill of the engineer : That throb and thrill, At that signal shrill : Does it bring them the rose or the rue to wear ? The song, the sigh, or the burning tear ? On and on To meet the dawn The black night dies, and the hills stand clear ! " What are you bringing, O swift wheels singing To daisied meadow and dew-sweet loam ? " 143 UP FROM GEORGIA " The hearts that hunger the hearts that roam- Over the world we bear them home ! " IV Old friends, old loves, in a rapture wild- Kiss of the mother and clasp of the child : The night is gone We have met the dawn ; Never so gladly the sweet sun smiled [ Never the spirit of Night beguiled The hand so true, That the throttle knew Bearing the burden of mother and child On and on To the joy o' the dawn ! With ever that song to the hearts that roam " To vine-wreathed cot and marble dome Over the world we bear you home ! " 144 MORNING AND NIGHT We cannot know the way Or if it lead to darkness, or to light ; It is but this: To see the rainbow-ray To dream the dream to do the deed to-day, And then, good-night ! 145 A SONG OF LIFE No sighs for love, my hearty ! There's more in life to-day Than weeping for a woman ; Swift rolls the world away ! The times are ever changing brave deeds there are to do; Why weep, then, for a woman who will not weep for you ? No sighs for love, my hearty no rainy April eyes ! With all the light around you, think of a world of sighs ! The green is on the meadow, the hills climb near the blue ; Why weep, then, for a woman who will not weep for you ? No tears no sighs, my hearty ! To moan, when dark clouds pass And let the living light out, " Alas ! Alas ! Alas ! " Brave rivers seaward singing the rose o'ertops the rue ; Why weep, then, for a woman who will not weep for you ? A SONG OF LIFE Fare to the fight ! The battle is for the brave and strong ; Fast flies the time, my hearty ; Life is a battle song ! Stern foes are swift advancing ; brave deeds there are to do ; Why weep, then, for a woman who will not weep for you ? THE CALL OF FREEDOM When freedom calls in thunder tones, Far sea to sea replies, And God the cause of freedom owns And thunders from the skies. The highest law is freedom's word, And where her sons have bled Each wind-swayed reed becomes a sword To strike oppression dead. Holy her cause, and he who fights, Contending for a clod Where freedom mourns her ruined rights, A hero is to God. 148 A PRAYER OF GIFTS I Give us no other art Than knowing to be kind ; Give us the thankful heart, Light where we walk so blind. II Give us to think no ill Forgive as we're forgiven, With earth and thy dear will Sweet as a dream of heaven. 149 TO THE FIELDS Be thankful to the fields, Though summer's sweets lie dead ; It was their fleece that clothed you, Their green blades brought you bread. 150 ALONE WITH THE DREAM Yellowed leaves and a dusty cover Dim and gray with the dust of years. It was the gift of a long-lost lover A gift of love and a gift of tears. A withered rose and a leaf of clover From the beautiful gardens far away. Is the dream of love so quickly over ? What does the heart of the woman say ? She hears the bells of the May-time ringing : She sees the May with its blooms depart. These were songs of her lover's singing, But the dust is over the lover's heart. Her first sweet love ! ... He is calling calling Back to the beautiful, vanished past ; Tears on the time-worn pages falling. The woman weeps o'er the dream at last ! And was there never on earth another A dearer love than the olden one ? Kissing her lips, a child cries, " Mother ! " The book is closed, and the dream is done ! A BALLAD I am glad that my lady can weep when she will, And thus bring the swords of the gallants to play. Who hath broken her heart ? It is adamant still ; She will trifle their own hearts away ! Her glance can entrance, as their keen swords can kill: I am glad that my lady can weep when she will ! I am glad that my lady can weep : She hath made Dim eyes where the sunshine dwelt tender and bright. I marvel, sometimes, that she is not afraid Of the ghosts of the night ! Their pitiful faces my own heart would thrill : I am glad that my lady can weep when she will ! She can weep she can sigh but the day comes apace When the ghosts will not down ! When in si lence apart She will feel the real tears on her pallid, drawn face, And the pang at the heart ! Then the pale ghosts will triumph and keen swords will kill :- I am glad that my lady can weep when she will ! 152 A SONG OF HOPE Night, and no star To guide the weary and the wandering feet : And yet I know somewhere the lights shine far, And breaks the Morning sweet. Night, and black skies Above the brave ships, tossing on the foam j And yet I know somewhere the Harbor lies Radiant with Love and Home ! Night but for me Still light ! light ! light ! where darkest storms shall cease ; O lonely land ! O black, tempestuous sea I pass from you to Peace ! ON THE MARCH Don't know where she's goin' to this country o' the free; She's got the land, an' now her hand is reachin' for the sea ! Her ships on all the waters the rollin' of her drums Is heard where nations murmur : " She comes ! She comes ! She comes ! " Don't know where she's goin' to, but still she's goin' fast; She's ready for the battle she's bravin' every blast. Her soldiers march in millions the blue linked with the gray, And the Stars and Stripes are wavin' across the world to-day ! Don't know where she's goin' to, but stormy day or night In peace, in strife for death, for life our country's goin' right ! Her flag's on every ocean the music of her drums Is heard where nations murmur : " She comes ! She comes ! She comes ! " 154 THE OFT-TOLD TALE Thousands of years the tale is told, And even as a day, With all their needs, and dreams, and deeds The centuries roll away. But the world is ever young, And life the future craves; And the roses hide where the dead abide, And the world forgets its graves. TO A SINGER (On Reading a Volume from Over the Sea.) Still by the hill and glen, And where the cities throng, They break the singer's heart ; and then They glory in the song. Come hither : lo, the woods Of the sun's beams are fain ; Sounds in the dreary solitudes The requiem of the rain. Thy lips are ruby-red Thy hands are soft and white, And the wide world is comforted Of thy dear eyes of light. Thou see'st, dear heart, afar The soul the song intense, And roamest where Faith's angels are In heaven's magnificence. 156 To A SINGER Lifting thine eyes above Sweeping the loftier scene ; Thou see'st the pallid ghost of Love Over earth's graves of green. Over earth's graves of green, Walled in of sand and sod ; And makest still a song serene That thrills the throne of God. That thrills the faith-formed throne 'Neath which the star-wraiths drift ; For in the ages, dark, unknown God's was the singer's gift ! Yet, with His lightnings hurled The darkened heavens along, What to the rude and rushing world The melody of song ? Sing till the rivers sing ! Sing till the firm hills shake ! Sing 'till the seas are answering Sing till the heart shall break ! UP FROM GEORGIA Thou shalt find little part In earth's scant love and trust; But for thy sweetest song, Sweetheart, Measures of tears and dust ! Yet sing ! for song is still Of graces the one grace ; The singers who God's word fulfill Shall see Him face to face. Sing thou of love that lives Where strifes and hatreds throng; That, being wounded, still forgives That suffers and is strong. No pence shall fill thy purse ; (Thy soul hath starved too long !) For well we know gold is the curse The broad world's curse of song ! Sing not for worldly gain Sing not for dark or fair : Sing thou in pleasure, peace and pain, Because the song is there ! To A SINGER Sing brave, and be content, When the world-thunders roll, That in the night a great Voice sent A message to thy soul ! For still by hill and glen, And where the cities throng They break the singer's heart and then They glory in the song. THE PASSING OF A HERO Nat Jones had been a-readin j 'bout the novelists of late That made enough to corner half the country's real estate ; 'Bout the hundred thousand copies that the sufferin' public took, An' says he : u I've 'bout decided I wuz born to write a book ! " It '11 help to paint the homestead, send the children all to school, Buy Sally a pianner, take the mortgage off the mule. Too long I've hid my talents, jest encumberin' the groun' They'll be runnin' me fer congress ef I keep a-loafin' 'roun' ! " So, without no more considering says he : " I'll jest begin." Bought a quart of ink, an' pens enough to fence the cattle in ; An' he turned out blotted pages worse than " moon shine " from the stills, An' 'twuz jest a benediction to the busy paper mills. 160 THE PASSING OF A HERO But his family got anxious, an' 'twuz noticed 'roun' the town Whatever he wuz writin' up, he kept a-thinnin' down : With the sorrow of the ages showin' solemn in his face He went around as mournful as a sinner lost to grace. " I tell you, I'm in trouble " the same wuz plain to see " That everlastin' hero is a-gittin' 'way with me ! In the middle o' the story, when I had him safe an' soun', He took a dost o' pizen, an' I jest can't bring him 'roun' !" An' the sympathizin' citizens would tell him, with a sigh, " Perhaps the thing wuz Providence : It wuz his time to die." An' at that he'd leave 'em, scowlin', an' sit him down again An' resurrect that hero with one splutter o' the pen ! 161 UP FROM GEORGIA An* next day, when they'd meet him, with u How's yer hero's health ? " He'd smile, an' tell 'em : " Old man died an' left him lots o' wealth ; But the thing that sorter puzzles me, an' circum scribes his glory, Is, where the old man come from fer there warn't none in the story ! " I've got to make a place for him, but how it's to be done Is more'n I kin tell you, 'less I start where I begun ! An' hang this novel writin' ! it's a-turnin' of me _ An' that miserable hero'll be the death o' me some day ! " His case wuz gittin' desperate : He jest thinned down until Doctors an' undertakers said he'd shortly fill the bill. Some said his mind wuz failin', but the wise an' the elect Said it couldn't be affected, since he had none to affect. 162 THE PASSING OF A HERO At last he seen a specialist, who told him plump an* plain He wuz born fer exercisin' of his muscles not his brain ; An' he listened to that sayin', an* quit a-writin' tales : Jest throwed his hero overboard an' went to splittin' rails. THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH (On the Statue of Henry W. Grady, Atlanta, Ga.) Over the wreck of his Atlanta he Heard music in the rills ; " New lighted, like the herald Mercury " On " heaven-kissing hills." And to the North, the East, the West he said : " Lo ! from the thunder-strife, And from the blown, white ashes of the dead We rise to larger life ! " And senates listened, and the states, made one, Cried, with their captains grand : " Over our glad breasts shines the same great sun, And God lights all the land ! " And now ! . . . From this old tenement sublime, Since here his steps were known I see him ! . . . And he triumphs over time And looks back to his own ! 164 THE VOICE OF THE SOUTH Friend of humanity ! Where thou must be Do the dashed rains feel chill ? Look from thy cold, bronzed pedestal and see Thine own Atlanta still ! Look where she comes, and hear her brave heart beat No more despised, disowned, But even while kneeling at thy sculptured feet, A very queen enthroned ! Look where her marts are busy ! where the world Comes in its peace and pride, And as the lightnings round thy brow are hurled, Think ! 'Twas for this you died ! Beam, lovely world ! With April and with May His deathless brow defend ! What greater man than him content to lay His life down for his friend ? A GEORGIA COURTSHIP Bill Jones had been a-courtin' of Sairy-Ann let's see : Fer 'bout a year, I reckon, 'fore she fell in love with me ; And Bill, he had a daddy what had money, well as Ian', And that's why Bill was hopin' that he'd marry Sairy- Ann. In fact, the thing wuz settled ; Sairy's daddy he wuz well, When his cotton paid the mortgage didn't have a bale to sell ; An' he kept a-gittin' poorer, an' goin' down the hill, An' that's why he wuz hopin' fer a son-in-law in Bill. One day he said to Sairy : u If Jones's Bill should say That he's tired of livin' single, you jest let him name the day ; He's a mighty likely feller, an' if marryin' is his plan You'd better close the bargain while it's ofFerin', Sairy- Ann." 166 A GEORGIA COURTSHIP An' Sairy thought it over, an' was lovin' of him strong, For she didn't know no better till / took an' come along ; An' then, 'twuz " Goodby, Billy ! " It wuz plain he warn't the man What had been predestinated fer to marry Sairy- Ann. But he 'lowed Pd never do it marry Sairy an' he went A-talkin' it jest thataway all round the settlement ; An' as fer Sairy's daddy he wuz mad enough to kill, An' he loaded up his shotgun an' said : " Sairy is fer Bill ! " Warn't any chance of meetin' with Sairy : Day by day I kept a thinkin', thinkin' how we'd take an' run away, But the old man knowed a trick or two what beat the tricks I knowed, An' when it comes to shotguns well, / don't dispute the road ! UP FROM GEORGIA But Fd set my mind to git her, an' her mind wuz set fer me, So I kept right on a-schemin', jest as hopeful as could be; Fer I knowed in spite of shotguns an' bull-dogs at the gates, That, like the tax-collector, things'll come to them what waits. An' they come ! 'Twuz Sairy's birthday, an' the old man he wuz proud ! He give a phantom party had the biggest kind of crowd ! There was dancin' by the riddle, an' a lot of gals to ask, An' at these here phantom parties everybody wears a mask. I went dressed as a woman frills an' flounces flyin' high ! An' the way the old man met me ! . . . I jest thought that I would die ! " Walk this way, ma'am ! Hang yer hat up ; have this rocker fer a seat ! " (An' I hadn't more'n crossed my legs 'fore some one said : What feet /") 168 A GEORGIA COURTSHIP I wuz feelin' kinder curious : mule an' buggy there, outside, An' no chance to whisper Sairy if she'd like to take a ride ? But I finally got to her, pinched her arm an' made her know, An' when she got done laughin' she jest told me : Yes, she'd go ! " But the old man it wuz funny ! follerin' me all roun' the hall ! He took a. fancy to me ! Said : " He liked a woman tall!" (I wuz most afeared he'd ax me fer to marry him, an' so I kept him at a distance, kaze I'd had to tell him No ! " He talked this way : " It's lonesome fer a widower like me, An' when Sairy-Ann gits married to Billy, where'll I be? No one to love an' talk to when the evenin' shadders flit I reckon you ain't married ? " (An' I told him : " No ; not yit ! ") 169 UP FROM GEORGIA He was jest about proposin' when Sairy pulled my sleeve, An' I knowed that wuz the signal that 'twuz gittin' time to leave ! So I edged off from him quiet to the back door open wide Got Sairy in the buggy an* wuz ready fer the ride ! Away we went a - dashin' through the darkness ! . . . Never knowed When I come to think it over, how that old mule kept the road ! Over stumps, an* over ditches, with a jostle an' a jolt! . . . But Sairy's arms wuz round me, an' I hollered : " Keep yer bolt ! " There warn't nobody follerin' : They hadn't missed us, an' If they had, it didn't matter, fer they thought / warn't a man ! But it warn't no time fer triflin', so we kept a-flyin' still 'Till we struck the ordinary's jest this side o' Wells's Mill. 170 A GEORGIA COURTSHIP Then we both got out the buggy : Sairy frightened, more or less, An' me fishin' fer the license an' a-gittin' out that dress ! An' when I'd got the muslin' an' the hoops from round my boots, I stood 'longside of Sairy in the best of weddin' suits ! We wuz married in a minute, an' in drivin' back to town We hearn a heap of hollerin' seen lights a-flashin' roun' : 'Twas the old man's phantom party stumblin' over roots An' bridges, huntin' Sairy an' that woman with the boots ! We drove right in the middle of the crowd I seen it all !- The old man he looked daggers, an' Bill Jones looked awful small ! But I seen the old man weaken when I told him : " Don't feel blue : I wuz promised to your daughter, an' I couldn't marry you / 171 THE SWEETEST OF MEMORY'S BELLS Wild is the way through the woodland, but there are the sweet fields of clover The sighing, sad pines and the jessamine vines and the rill that leaps laughingly over The lilies that rim it the shadows that dim it ; and there, winding winsomely sweet, Is the path that still leads to the old home through rivery ripples of wheat ! And hark ! 'tis the song of the reapers, and I know by its jubilant ringing There is gold in the gleam of the harvest and love in the hearts that are singing ; And still as of old to the ether its music mellifluous swells, And the wind that sighs westward is swaying the sweetest of Memory's bells ! Let me pass through the wheat and the clover O men and rose-maidens who reap ! I, who come from the sound of the cities, like a child to its mother would creep ; 172 THE SWEETEST or MEMORY'S BELLS For through long years of tears and of toiling, like harbor-bells over the foam Your voices far winging and ringing were singing me singing me home ! And now, from the pain and the pleasure from the sorrow and sighing I flee Like the birds when the storm-winds are blowing like the ships seek the haven from sea ! And I fancy the violets know me in gardens of beauty and bliss ; And do not the red roses owe me the peace of the prodigal's kiss ? The sun is still bright at the portal ; there the love- light all radiant shines ; Heart ! heart ! there's a face we remember in the tangle and bloom of the vines ! Far off the glad reapers are singing far off in the rivery wheat, And the arms of a mother are clinging, and the kiss of a mother is sweet ! iN THE CITY A shadow creeps to the sun, that seems Like a soul with a guilty stain ; A silver drop on the pavement gleams : Thank God for the rain, the rain ! The burning dust of the blazing street Is dimpled. From o'er the plain The cool wind comes with a kiss that's sweet And riots along the rain ! The gamins whistle ; the teamsters bare Their brows for a moment's space ; From sweltering casements the children stare At the drops in the rainy race ! And the heart of the city beats for joy, And the sick forget their pain : And one looks down on a barefoot boy And longs for his youth again ! RAIN IN THE COUNTRY The broad fields burn in the noonday sun And the lily looks forlorn ; And the freshness fades from the dusty blades Of the waveless, windless corn. The cattle, with never a clank of bells, Lie still by the shadowed streams ; The birds are mute in the drowsy dells, When sudden the lightning gleams Far off on the horizon's misty marge, And up from the south there comes Cloud on cloud, in a battle charge, And the thunder rolls its drums ! And the corn grows glad and its silks are tossed, And the lily drinks the drops That the warring clouds in their anger lost Life ! life ! to the thirsting crops ! And one looks out from a cabin door And then to a woman speaks : " We'll have a harvest thet's fine, I'm shore, Ef it jest don't rain six weeks ! " WILLIAM McKINLEY I Weeping skies that would seem to deplore him Cast shadows on stars and on suns ; Drooped flags that are shivering o'er him To a far-rolling thunder of guns ! And great bells that rock the starred steeples And moan to the heavens above, But dearer than all things a people's Devotion and love ! II O Northland and Southland far-sighing Your grief, in this hour unblest, He died for his country, and dying Was folded in Love to her breast. In the storm of the battle he towered A beacon a strength to the brave, And Freedom, low-kneeling, has showered Her tears on his grave. ' WILLIAM McKiNLEY III Fall, flags, o'er the sod where he's lying; Moan, winds of the world, as ye sweep Over States unto sad States replying, O'er oceans where deep calls to deep ! Clasp hands Time shall never dissever, Though Fate strike with wrath and with rod, Where he rests in a world's Love forever In the great Peace of God ! 177 THIS BOOK IS DUE ON THE LAST DATE STAMPED BELOW RENEWED BOOKS ARE SUBJECT TO IMMEDIATE RECALL LIBRARY, UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA, DAVIS Book Slip-25m-6,'66(G3855s4)458 N9 530939 Stanton, F.L. Up from Georgia PS2905 U7 LIBRARY UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA DAVIS