ir^jii 
 
 
 PLANTATION 
 SONGS 
 
 RuthM^EReryStuari 
 
Class .3^^:^^ 
 Book -7^ Co 
 
 Copyright]^" 
 
 COPYRIGHT DEPOSIT. 
 
PLANTATION 50NG5 
 
.'^fc^ 
 
 "Oh, shoutin's mighty sweet.' 
 
PLANTATION 
 SONGS 
 
 AND OTHER VERSE 
 
 BY 
 
 RUTH McLNLRY STUART 
 
 Author of "Sonny," "Carlotta's Intended," etc. 
 
 Illuslrated by L. W. KEMBLL 
 
 D. APPLLTON AND COMPANY 
 NEW YORK LONDON 
 
 19 16 
 
c!' 
 
 *> 
 
 ^"^4!^ 
 
 . COPTBIGHT, 1916, BT 
 
 RUTH McENERY STUART 
 
 Printed in the United States of America^ 
 
 JUL -6 1916 \»i(^\^ 
 
 'CI,A4336C:6 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Beauty-land 3 
 
 Wash-day 6 
 
 Lady Mis' Eve 8 
 
 April 9 
 
 Stars and Dimples 10 
 
 The Paradise-bird 13 
 
 Adam's Apple 17 
 
 Whek de Sun Swings Low 18 
 
 Plantation Hoe Song , . 20 
 
 Lady-baby , „ .24 
 
 Why? . 39 
 
 Junior-man , . 31 
 
 Ol' Mammy Mumble-low 35 
 
 The Sisters 36 
 
 Jes Her Way 39 
 
 The Fortune-teller 43 
 
 Reverend Mingo Millenyum's Ordination ... 46 
 
 Roses 51 
 
 Come Along, Miss Nancy 53 
 
 Tiger-lilies 55 
 
 LUCINDY 57 
 
 Oh, Love's My Meat 62 
 
 Winnie 64 
 
 Washerwoman's Hyihn 68 
 
 De Star in de East ........ 70 
 
 Oh, Shoutin's Mighty Sweet ...... 72 
 
 Voices . .74 
 
 V 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 O Mt Sofl, Yof Mus' Be Wai.kix' ik Yo' Sleep . . 77 
 
 Oh, de Lord, He Walked de Waters 80 
 
 Oh, Heaben's Mighty Close 82 
 
 SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 The Sea of Peace 85 
 
 Consecration 87 
 
 Allegiance 89 
 
 Disarmament 90 
 
 Beware the Leaven 92 
 
 Mary 93 
 
 Bethlehem „ . 95 
 
 The Gentling Years » . 97 
 
 Sitting Blind by the Sea = . 99 
 
 Companionship , . 103 
 
 April Dreaming . 103 
 
 The Blue . . . . . . . . . .104 
 
 Service 105 
 
 The Cycle 
 
 I. Nature's Rhythm 106 
 
 II. The Mosaic Law 108 
 
 III. The Gospel . .110 
 
 Brotherhood 112 
 
 Life's Arraignment 117 
 
 Life and the Vision 122 
 
 JUST FOR FUN 
 
 Ye Merry Peacemakers 125 
 
 October 129 
 
 The Man in the Moon 133 
 
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 "Oh, shoutin's mighty sweet" Frontispiece 
 
 PAGE 
 
 "Or Marse Adam" 15 
 
 *'So wid my hoe I go — 
 Row on row, row on row — ^" 21 
 
 "Tell 'em mammy's black an' ol'. 
 
 Human sins is on 'er soul. 
 
 But she gyards de chillen's fol' — ^" 25 
 
 "He'd call dem Scriptures out" 47 
 
 "Tell de trufe, Lucindy's ways 
 
 Gits me so upsot some days — " ...... 59 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
BEAUTY-LAND 
 A LULLABY 
 
 KivER up yo' eye, my baby, wid yo' mammy's 
 sleeve, 
 When de windy elemints is callin' out aloud, 
 Dat's de way de stars dey go to sleep, I do 
 believe : 
 Mammy Night she kivers up her babies wid 
 a cloud. 
 
 White mamma, lady mamma, she's so 
 
 mighty gay, 
 Beauty's boun' to dance at de ball ; 
 But black mammy, nigger mammy, 
 
 ain't a-gwine away, 
 Nuver leave 'er sleepin' baby 't all. 
 
 All about in Slumber-Ian' dey's beauty layin' 
 roun' — 
 Layin' loose, a-waitin' for de chillen to come 
 in; 
 
 3 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Yisterday my baby went, an' what you think 
 she foun' ^ 
 
 But dem creases in 'er wris'es an' dat dimple 
 in 'er chin? 
 
 White mamma, lady mamma, she's so 
 mighty gay, 
 Satins boun' to rustle at de ball; 
 But black mammy, nigger maromy, 
 nuver gwine aw^ay — 
 Ain't expected nowhar else at all. 
 
 Lady mamma walked in Beauty's garden as a 
 babe ; 
 Same ol' nigger mammy settin' watchin' at 
 de gate, 
 Trusted wid de treasure dough dey say she was 
 a slabe — 
 Oh, chillen, quit yo' foolin', 'caze de times is 
 gittin' late. 
 
 White mamma, lady mamma, she's so 
 mighty gay, 
 Boun' to greet de gov'ner at de ball; 
 But black mammy, nigger mammy, 
 ain't a-gwine away — 
 No, sir. Mister Angel, don't you call. 
 4 
 
BEAUTY-LAND 
 
 Baby 's gone to Beauty-Ian' — de pinky gates 
 is shet — *" 
 
 So mammy gwine a-noddin', too, to gyar- 
 dens in de sky, 
 To view de heavenly mansions whar de golden 
 streets is set. 
 An' mammy an' her babies will be gethered, 
 by an' by. 
 
 White mamma, lady mamma, she's so 
 mighty gay, 
 Bonn' to grace de 'easion at de ball; 
 But black mammy, nigger mammy, 
 ain't a-gwine away — 
 Nuver leave 'er sleepin' baby 't all. 
 
 5 
 
WASH-DAY 
 
 Oh, de sunrise, but it's sweet! 
 
 An' de dew-grass licks my feet 
 When I balamces my bundle on my head, 
 
 An' I sa'nters to de spring 
 
 Whar de risin' bubbles sing 
 In de ehiny-grove behin' de cattle-shed. 
 
 Oh, dey's lather in soap, 
 
 An' dey's bubbles in hope; 
 But my love he's in de shed amongs' de calves. 
 
 An' he'll meet me by de mill 
 
 At de risin' o' de hill — 
 'Caze he knows I totes my bundle tied in 
 halves. 
 
 He's a skimpy little nigger, 
 
 But I wouldn't have him bigger; 
 
 He's de figger an' de face o' my desire: 
 Jes as sweet an' dry an' spindlin' 
 As my pine he splits for kindlin' — 
 
 Takes a mighty little thing to light a fire. 
 
 6 
 
WASH-DAY 
 
 When de dusk brings out de edges 
 
 O' de west'ard-growin' hedges, 
 An' each gou'd-flower on de stable is a sun, 
 
 F'om de fiel' bey on' my bleachin' 
 
 Comes a cow-song, so beseechin' 
 Dat I fools aroun' untel de milkin's done. 
 
 Clo'es is sweeter once dewed over 
 
 Layin' out upon de clover. 
 An' a night-shower nuver does 'em any harm; 
 
 So, at sundown, shadder-figgers 
 
 Of two empty-handed niggers 
 Dances, tall, across de medders, arm in arm. 
 
 An' we watches 'em an' giggles. 
 
 An' I dodges an' I wriggles. 
 So de shadder-man can't tech de lady's wais' 
 
 Till he reaches wid a motion 
 
 Dat's perzac'ly to my notion; 
 Den I 'bleeged to let him span it to his tas'e. 
 • ••••• 
 
 Yas, de risin' sun is sweet. 
 
 But de goin' down's complete; 
 On'y trouble is it seems to come too soon; 
 
 But dey's alius one dark minute 
 
 Wid de tas'e o' heaven in it — 
 Jes' a kissin'-space, betwix' de sun an' moon. 
 
 7 
 
LADY MIS' EVE 
 
 Ole Cap'n Devil tuk a walk in Paradise — 
 Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too — 
 
 Hoped to meet Mars' Adam, she was steppin' 
 mighty nice — 
 Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too — 
 
 Dis was 'fo' de fig-time, so my lady picked a 
 rose — 
 Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too — 
 An' she helt it 'g'inst de sunlight, as she felt de 
 need o' clo'es — 
 Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin', too — 
 
 Den she shuk 'er yaller ringlets do^n an' 
 'lowed dat she was dressed — 
 Lady Mis' Eve had a walkin' fit — 
 Cap'n Devil come a-quoilin' — ever'body knows 
 de rest — 
 Lady Mis' Eve she's a-walkin' yit. 
 
 8 
 
APRIL 
 ON THE LOWER MISSISSIPPI 
 
 Ol' Jack Frost he sneaks, a-creepin', 
 While Sis' Snow she's dwindled, sieepin'; 
 April 's bhnkin' yonder, weepin', 
 Wid a rainbow 'g'inst her hair, 
 So dey mus' be sun somewhere. 
 
 Heavy fogs lays on de river 
 Whar de greenin' willers shiver 
 Tell gray blankets wrop an' kiver 
 All de trimblin' branches bare — 
 An' no sign o' sun nowhere. 
 
 Bright new ginghams in de churches, 
 Schoolmarms trimmin' limber birches, 
 or man diggin' bait for pyerches, 
 Hummin', "Fishes sho to bite, 
 Ef dis sun don't shine too bright." 
 
 Boys an' gals all out a-co'tin'. 
 Lots o' fun an' music floatin' 
 Out amongst de rafts an' boatin' ; 
 Oh, dey's plenty sunsliine there 
 Whether skies is dark or clair! 
 2 9 
 
STARS AND DIMPLES 
 
 Ol' Sis Cow was jes' a-perishin' to laugh, 
 So she had to chaw hard on her cud 
 
 When she come a-trudgin' home wid a little 
 spotted calf 
 Dat she 'lowed she had found in de wood. 
 
 Three white stars like its mammy's on its ears — 
 Cow, she took de number wid a grin. 
 
 Same as de chillen's mammy, tickled mos' to 
 tears 
 At her dimples breakin' out in baby's chin. 
 
 Six white stars doT\Ti a-waitin' at de gate — 
 
 Sundown drappin' into dark — 
 Calfie ambles middlin' stiddy, spotted head 
 agin' its mate; 
 
 Wonder do it reco'nize de mark! 
 
 Wonder do de Baby know de mammy-dimples, 
 too. 
 When he doubles up his fist to pound 'em in, 
 10 
 
STARS AND DIMPLES 
 
 A-crowin' an' a-preachin', wid a high ol' hulla- 
 baloo, 
 Whilst dey interchange de secret, chin to 
 chin. 
 
 11 
 
THE PARADISE-BIRD 
 HOW HE GOT HIS COLORS AXD LOST HIS SONG 
 
 Oh, de Paradise-bird in de knowledge tree 
 
 In Eden's gysuden, he sez, sezee : 
 
 "I better roost high, I do beheve, 
 
 'Caze ruction's breT^dn' 'twix' Adam an' Eve; 
 
 Dey's apples in 'er cheek an' hunger in 'is eye. 
 
 Oh, yas," he 'low, "I better roos' high!" 
 
 (^Vhilst Adam an' Eve, like chillen strayed 
 Aroun' dat apron-fig-tree's shade.) 
 
 De bird was gray as de pyerchin' limb, 
 
 So he could look down an' dey couldn't see him, 
 
 Yit he roosted high like a wisdom bird. 
 
 But he saw what he saw an' he heard what he 
 
 heard ; 
 He heard dat snake when he sclaimed, sezee : 
 "I bleeged to squirm aroun' dis apple-tree!" 
 (To see what's what, e'vesdrop on Eve, 
 An' fin' what Adam got up 'is sleeve. ) * 
 
 * He tuk dat word f 'om 'is sarpint sight, 
 'Caze he seen how he'd soon have 'em dressed, all right. 
 
 12 
 
THE PARADISE-BIIID 
 
 Den de Paradise-bird, he tried to hum, 
 But de talkin' snake had skeered 'im dumb; 
 And de Bible facts, dey rushed so fast. 
 He sca'cely sensed when de apple passed — 
 Wid de angel o' wrath — an' de flamin' sword — 
 An' de call for "ADAM!" in de voice o' de 
 Lord ; 
 (An' him an' Eve hid back in de corn, 
 Sewin' fig-leaf clo'es wid a o'ange thorn). 
 
 Brer Paradise-bird looked on untel 
 He teetered on 'is limb tel he all but fell ; 
 Still, he kep' 'is color tel Adam, sezee: 
 "Dis lady, O Lord, wha' you loaned me, 
 She tempted me so'e wid a bait o' fruit, 
 An' we back heah, sewin' a proper suit. 
 
 (Den he heerd ol' Adam chuckle an' say: 
 "Dat apron-fig-tree saved de day!") 
 
 He spoke sort o' hoa'se, lak 'is throat was so'e, 
 'S ef 'is words got clogged 'ginst de apple- 
 
 co'e; 
 An' it sounded so mean to de Paradise-bird, 
 After all he'd seen an' all he'd heard, 
 Dat he felt 'isself turn all green in de face 
 ('Caze a he-bird feels any man's disgrace). 
 
 13 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 An' he trimbled an' he shivered, wid no 
 
 pertense, 
 An' he turned ev'ry color, an' he ain't sung 
 
 sence! 
 
 14 
 
"or Marse Adam." 
 
ADAM'S APPLE 
 
 Ol' Marse Adam! 01' Marse Adam! 
 Et de lady's apple up an' give her all de blame. 
 Greedy-gut, greedy- gut, whar is yo' shame? 
 or Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame? 
 
 or Marse Adam! Ol' Marse Adam! 
 Caught de apple in 'is neck an' made it mighty 
 
 so'e. 
 An' so we po' gran'chillen has to swaller roun' 
 
 de co'e. 
 or Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame? 
 
 or Marse Adam! OF Marse Adam! 
 Praised de lady's attitudes an' compliment 'er 
 
 figur' — 
 Did n't have de principle of any decent nigger, 
 or Marse Adam, man, whar is yo' shame? 
 
 or Marse Adam! OF Marse Adam! 
 Et de lady's apple up an' give her all de blame. 
 Greedy-gut, greedy-gut, whar is yo' shame? 
 <JV Marse Adam, man, shame on you, shame! 
 
 17 
 
WHEN DE SUN SWINGS LOW 
 
 Look out for Mister Swaller when de sun 
 swings low — 
 Watch liim swoop an' sway ! 
 He keeps a mighty dippin', like he don' know 
 whar to go, 
 A-saggin' every way. 
 He starts sort o' nimbly, 
 But he settles mighty wimbly 
 When he scurries for de chimbley 
 When de sun swings low. 
 
 Does you see a cloud a-risin' when de sun 
 SA^dngs low? 
 Listen ef it sings; 
 Hit's a swarm o' gray muskitties, 'bout a mil- 
 lion strong or so, 
 A-sharpenin' up dey stings. 
 Dey keeps a mighty filin', 
 An' dey tries to sing beguilin', 
 But de 'skitties' song is rilin' 
 When de sun swings low. 
 18 
 
WHEN DE SUN SWINGS LOW 
 
 Oh, de woods is all conversin' when de sun 
 swings low — 
 Bird an' beast an' tree ; 
 Dey all communes together in de languages 
 dey know. 
 An' sperits rise to see. 
 De nightmares prances, 
 An' de wull-o'-wust dances, 
 When de moonlight advances 
 An' de sun swings low. 
 
 19 
 
PLANTATION HOE SONG 
 
 Heah wid my hoe I go — 
 Row on row, row on row — 
 
 Hoein' my corn: 
 Five stalks for every hill — 
 One for de rust to kill, 
 One for de cutworm's bill. 
 
 Three for de barn. 
 
 Red-waistcoat robin sings 
 
 Up 'mongs' de greenin' things. 
 
 Mate on de nest; 
 My pardner's nestin' too, 
 Nestin' like hxmians do — 
 Got lonesome, same as you, 
 
 Robin Redbreast. 
 
 So wid my hoe I go — 
 Row on row, row on row — 
 
 Proud as a king. 
 Dry-rot an' damp mildew 
 Mus' share in all I do; 
 But Gord's my pardner, too — 
 
 Dat's why I sing. 
 20 
 
f-^: 
 
 "So wid my hoe I go — 
 Row on row, row on row — " 
 
PLANTATION HOE SONG 
 
 Robin, he "knows it all," 
 'Ca'se he can sing an' call — 
 
 Dat's on'y half; 
 Maybe a bird can shirk, 
 Singin' like lazy clerk. 
 But on'y men dat work 
 
 Knows how to laugh. 
 
 Whilst his slim mate an' him 
 Built on de apple limb, 
 
 I sowed my Ian', 
 Three grains in every hole: 
 One for de shovin' mole. 
 One for de devil's toll. 
 
 One for to stan'. 
 
 So wid my hoe I go — 
 Row on row, row on row — 
 
 Laughin' along; 
 Let robin sing at ease 
 Whilst I hoes corn an' peas: 
 Gord plants him cherry trees 
 
 Jes for his song. 
 
 23 
 
LADY-BABY 
 LULLABY 
 
 Go to sleep, my lady-baby, please, ma'am! 
 
 Dream about de purty t'ings. 
 
 Silky frocks an' finger-ring's, 
 
 Fit to dazzle queens an' kings; 
 Take yo' pick, my purty little lady-baby, 
 please, ma'am! 
 
 Refrain 
 
 Don't be 'fraidy, baby. 
 Mammy's little lady-baby — 
 Bye — oh, bye — oh, b^^e! 
 
 Go to sleep, my lady-baby, please, ma'am! 
 Angels waits to fly wid you 
 Ail de heavenly dream-Ian' th'ough — 
 Twix' de stars an' up de blue — 
 
 Sail away, my lily-one, my lady-baby, please. 
 
 ma'am ! 
 
 24 
 
"Tell 'em mammy's black an' ol', 
 Human sins is on 'er soul, 
 But she gyards de chillen's fol' — " 
 
LADY-BABY 
 
 Refrain 
 
 Don't be 'fraidy, baby, 
 Mammy's little lady-baby — ■ 
 Bye — oh, bye — oh, bye! 
 
 Go to sleep, my lady-baby, please, ma'am! 
 Little prince wid yaller hair 
 Waitin' for my chil' somewhere, 
 Whilst she's growin' tall an' fair; 
 
 Sleep an' grow, my co'tly little lady-baby, 
 please, ma'am! 
 
 Refrain 
 
 Don't be 'fraidy, baby. 
 Mammy's little lady-baby — 
 Bye — oh, bye — oh, bye ! 
 
 Go to sleep, my lady-baby, please, ma'am! 
 Walk in dreams wid angels white, 
 Bainbow^-dressed an' crowned wid light. 
 Smile an' mammy'll see de sight — 
 Don't forgit to tell 'em 'bout ol' darky- 
 mammy, please, ma'am! 
 27 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Refrain 
 
 Don't be 'fraidy, baby, 
 Mammy's little lady-baby — 
 Bye — oh, bye — oh, bye ! 
 
 Tell 'em, yas, oh, tell 'em, tell 'em, please, 
 ma'am! 
 Tell 'em mammy's black an' ol', 
 Hmnan sins is on 'er soul. 
 But she gyards de ehillen's fol' — 
 Tell 'em Gord done trus' 'er wid dis lady-baby, 
 please, ma'am! 
 
 Refrain 
 
 Don't be 'fraidy, baby, 
 Mammy's httle lady-baby. 
 Bye — oh, bye — oh, bye! 
 
 28 
 
WHY? 
 
 "How come?" an' "Why?" an' "What's de 
 
 use?" 
 Is handy words for a lame excuse, 
 But dey's mighty few words, ef you swing 'em 
 
 right, 
 But'U open doors an' let in light. 
 
 "How come mammy-nuss mus' wash my face?" 
 "Oh, why does high shoes have to lace?" 
 "What is de use of bonnet or hat?" 
 Dey's some nice chillen dat talks like dat. 
 
 Mos' little folks is fuU o' "whys?" 
 All disp'oportioned to dey size. 
 But I knows one, I's proud to say, 
 Dat swings his "whys" de other way: 
 
 "How come mammy-nuss so good to me?" 
 "What makes a bird sing in a tree?" 
 "How big must I make my balloon 
 When we go sailin' roun' de moon?" 
 
 29 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Now "whys" like dese ain't onpolite, 
 
 An' mammy she always answers right; 
 
 So when his "whys" is all explained, 
 
 De junior's bathed, an' dressed — an trained. 
 
 30 
 
JUNIOR-MAN 
 
 Junior-man is Mammy's boy, 
 Don't keer ef he do destroy 
 Boughten kites an' 'spensive clo'es, 
 Dat's de way de juniors grows! 
 But he plays so swif, some days, 
 I jes' holds my bref an' prays. 
 Lamed hisself las' week, po' dunce, 
 Tryin' to ride two dogs at once, 
 An', betwix' de two, dey flung 
 Man so hard he bit his tongue! 
 
 Junior's on'y gwine on seven. 
 Tall enough to be eleven; 
 Grows so fas' befo' my eyes, 
 I can't keep up wid 'is size. 
 Got to rise up tall an' straight 
 An' take on a noble gait 
 Fit to tote dat Randolph grace, 
 'Gin' he takes his papa's place! 
 
 Little toes is bruised wid knocks, 
 Man will hide 'is shoes an' socks ; 
 3 31 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Den, when Jack Fros' sniffs aroun'. 
 On de white-hot erackly groun', 
 Nothin' does but red-top boots 
 On his httle freckled foots; 
 Plegged his mama an' his aunts 
 Tel dey put 'im in dem pants, 
 So we laid his kilts away 
 Tel mo' company comes to stay. 
 
 Man, he'd ruther play wid Micks 
 An' learn dey little Irish tricks 
 Dan set up, quiet as a mouse. 
 An' talk good grammar in de house; 
 One thing sho, his mammy-nurse 
 She gwine teach 'im to converse 
 Jes' de way she hears his pa 
 Set down talkin' wid 'is ma! 
 Co'se, I has to do it slow, 
 Caze he's constant runnin' so! 
 
 Alius ketchin' doodle-bugs, 
 'R pullin' out de bung-hole plugs — 
 Lettin' good molasses was'e, 
 Jes' to track it roun' de place. 
 Now he's swallerin' o'ange-seeds, 
 D'rec'ly tastin' cuyus weeds, 
 32 
 
JUNIOR-MAN 
 
 Smokin' corn-silk, chewin' spruce, 
 Laws-a-mussy ! what's de use 
 Gittin' flustered up an' vexed, 
 Dreadin' what he gwine do next. 
 Wonder is to me, I say, 
 Man ain't pizened every day! 
 Tripped, dis mornin', crost de rugs, 
 Tryin' to smother me wid hugs 
 Whilst he hid my tukky-f an — 
 Sly, mischievious Junior-man! 
 
 Man kin squeeze hisself, he say, 
 Any place a hen kin lay! 
 Bruised 'is little arms an' legs 
 Crawlin' 'neath de barn for eggs; 
 Got wedged in, one day, so tight, 
 Nuver got 'im out tel night, 
 But he hugged 'is little hat. 
 Filled wid eggs, all whole, at dat! 
 Man ain't nuver yit give in 
 Over what he'd once-t begin! 
 All my prayer to Heaven is, 
 "Spare my life. Lord, tel he's riz!" 
 Wouldn't want no other han' 
 Leadin' up our Junior-man ! 
 33 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 But I nuver feels jes' right 
 Tel Man's in his bed at night. 
 Time he got los', here las' week. 
 All I thought of was de creek, 
 An' befo' dey rung de bell, 
 I had snook an' searched de well; 
 Co'se I know dat's lack o' faith, 
 Jes' de way de ScrijDtm-e saith, 
 Eut sometimes Man acts so sweet, 
 Like a cherubim, complete, 
 An' dem innocent blue eyes 
 Seems like pieces o' de skies, 
 Wliilst he questions me so queer 
 Like he sca'cely b'longs do^\^i here. 
 Dat's howcome my heart's so light 
 When he's safe-t in bed at night. 
 
 Alius begs to set up late, 
 But at bedtime, 'long 'bout eight, 
 I don't sca'cely smoove my lap 
 'Fo' he starts to blink an' gap; 
 An' I totes him up de stairs. 
 Too far gone to say his prayers ; 
 So, Z prays his soul to keep, 
 Whilst I lays him down to sleep. 
 
 34 
 
OL' MAMMY MUMBLE-LOW 
 A PORTRAIT 
 
 or Mammy Mumble-low, 
 What mek you grumble so? 
 
 Shoes on yo' feet, 
 
 Good bread an' meat. 
 
 No work to do 
 
 De long day th'ough; 
 Yit, Mammy Mumble-low, 
 All day long you grimible so — 
 
 or Mammy Mumble-low! 
 
 or Mammy Mumble-low, 
 
 I know huecome she grumble so ; 
 
 Her foots can't fin' 
 
 De way she gwine, 
 
 Beeaze her wits 
 
 Dey jes' fergits; 
 An' dat's huecome she mumble so 
 An' stumble so, an' tumble so — 
 
 Po' or Mammy Mumble-low! 
 
 35 
 
THE SISTERS 
 
 Ol' black Moll, she ain' no doll; 
 
 She ain' got ways an' manners 
 Lak Silvy Grace dat steps in lace 
 
 An' totes de s'ciety banners. 
 
 Moll's black's a chimbly-back, 
 An' short an' fat an' chunky; 
 
 Game-makin' folks casts cruel jokes 
 An' calls 'er "Molly-monkey." 
 
 Silvy Grace, she 'iles 'er face 
 Wid goose-grease an' pomatum, 
 
 An' wrops dem kinks becaze she thinks 
 Dem tallered strings'll straight 'em. 
 
 Moll sweeps de yard ; her hands is hard 
 As her ol' shuck-broom handle; 
 
 Her pallet-bed's in granny's shed 
 Whar de win' blows out de candle. 
 36 
 
THE SISTERS 
 
 De chillen knows who'll men' dey clo'es 
 To save 'em gittin' lickin's; 
 
 Dey finds Moll's do', jes same as po' 
 Weak calves an' pippy chickens. 
 
 Silvy's slim's a poplar-hmb, 
 An' when she stai'ts a-rockin', 
 
 She clair forgits how minutes flits — ' 
 Her clocks is on 'er stockin'. 
 
 Black Moll's wais' is any place 
 Her secon'-handed frocks is, 
 
 Which ain't a bit mo' neater fit 
 'N what 'er shoes an' socks is. 
 
 Silvy Grace, she leads de place 
 
 In shoutin' 'bout salvation; 
 She rips dem suits dat Molly flutes, 
 
 An' wakes de whole plantation. 
 
 Moll, she say, she hopes some day 
 
 To study high behavior. 
 An' when ol' gran' don't need 'er han', 
 
 She 'lows to seek de Savior. 
 
 When Silvy Grace lif's up 'er face 
 She prays wid monst'ous yearnin' 
 37 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 For Gord to "call on po' lost Moll 
 An snatch 'er fom de burninr 
 
 An' Moll, po' wit, say she ain' fit 
 To climb no golden stairs; 
 
 But ef she do, she'll know it's th'ough 
 De power o' Silvy's prayers! 
 
 38 
 
JES HER WAY 
 
 Oh, I loves a little widder, an' 'er name's Me- 
 lindy Jane, 
 An' she love me lakwise also — so she say ; 
 But you can't put no dependence on my lady 
 'Lindy Jane, 
 'Caze she talks to all de ge'men dat-a-way; 
 An' she looks so pleadin'. 
 An' she ac's so misleadin'. 
 But I don't keer what de high and 
 mighties say, 
 Caze she don't mean to sin 
 When she tecks de ge'men in, 
 Hit's only jes her way. 
 
 When I see a stalk o' sugar-cane a-swayin' in 
 de breeze, 
 Wavin' "No," but noddin' "Yas" wid all its 
 tips, 
 Hit 'minds me o' my lady when she greets me 
 wid a freeze. 
 Whilst de love-words hangs a-trimblin' on 
 'er lips. 
 
 39 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Oh, she's cold as December, 
 An' she's warm as September, 
 
 Or she's off an' on jes like a April day; 
 But to figgurfy de munts. 
 She'll perform 'em all at once, 
 
 But it's only jes her way. 
 
 Dey's o' purty gals a plenty, down a-hoein' in 
 de cane ; 
 Twenty of 'em I could marry any day ; 
 But I'd ruther be fooled by my lady 'Lindy 
 Jane, 
 Jes to work by 'er side in de hay, 
 When she rakes so keerless. 
 An' she flirt so fearless. 
 When she drawin' for 'er labor by de 
 day; 
 But she don't mean no harm 
 When she swindles on de farm; 
 Hit's only jes her way. 
 
 When she crouches on de mo'ners' bench wid 
 sinners seekin' grace, 
 An' she whispers to me, ^'Hol' me, lest I 
 fall!" 
 
 40 
 
JES HER WAY 
 
 I sustains 'er sinkin' sperit wid my arm aroun' 
 'er wais'. 
 An' I hopes she'll be de las' to git de call. 
 But I nuver holds 'er long 
 'Fo' she busts into song — 
 She kin git a call for glory any day ; 
 Yit she dances back to sin 
 When de fiddle-notes begin, 
 But it's on'y jes her way. 
 
 She's a mighty scnmiptious lady when you 
 meets her on de block 
 Gwine to chu'ch in all 'er secon'-handed 
 clo'es ; 
 But I'd ruther set beside 'er in 'er cotton-pick- 
 in' frock, 
 When she gethers clover blorsoms wid 'er 
 toes. 
 
 She's a saint an' she's a sinner, 
 An' she ain't no new beginner 
 When it comes to mixin' righteousness 
 an' play; 
 But de devil couldn't tame 'er. 
 An' I doubt ef Gord'll blame 'er, 
 'Caze He made 'er jes dat way, 
 41 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 I ain't got but one objection to my lady 
 
 'Lindy Jane; 
 Hit's 'er widderhood I hates wid all my 
 
 might ; 
 So we argTifies de topic, holdin' hands along 
 de lane, 
 Whilst I begs to kyore 'er only fault in sight ; 
 An' my courage come a-floodin' 
 ('Caze she always marries sudden), 
 An' I coaxes 'er to settle it today; 
 But she answers wid a titter 
 Dat I "needn't 'spec' to git her!" 
 But dat's only jes her way. 
 
 42 
 
THE FORTUNE-TELLER 
 AS DESCRIBED BY TRIFLIN' SAM 
 
 She's my lily-o'-de-valley, 
 
 But she lives upon de hill, 
 
 An' 'er valley hit's de alley 
 
 Twix' de brick-yard an' de kiln; 
 
 But she sa'nters 'mongs' de fan-pa'ms 
 An' she reads out all de man-pa'ms, 
 
 An' she tells each one a fortune ^oith a hun- 
 dred-dollar bill. 
 
 But she'll tell it for a quarter 
 
 When de boys is short o' change, 
 
 'Caze she say de seventh daughter, 
 
 Wid a gif ' to kyore de mange, 
 Is ordained by signs an' wonders, 
 Midday moons, an' summer thunders, 
 
 To distribute prophesyin' everywhar within 'er 
 range. 
 
 She kin feel de river risin' 
 For a week befo' de boom, 
 Whilst she brews a pot o' pizen 
 An' she hums a chant o' doom 
 
 43 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Tel she sees de cuss is lifted — 
 Dat's de way my Lily's gifted! 
 Does you wonder dat I loves 'er lak a valley- 
 lily bloom? 
 
 She's de color of a lemon 
 
 Wid a little tinge o' brown. 
 
 An' she interviews de gem'en 
 
 In a mighty cuyus gown ; 
 
 When you hear dem earrings jingle, 
 You kin feel yo' goose-skin tingle. 
 
 An' you trimbles lak de almonds o' yo' ears is 
 faliin' down! 
 
 She's a queen an' fit to dazzle 
 When she wears dat crescent crown; 
 An' she'll gether sprigs o' basil 
 An' she'll 'stribute 'em aroun', 
 
 Whilst she'll promise one a marri'ge 
 
 An' to one a horse an' carri'ge 
 An' she'll "glimpse de White House loomin' " 
 for de mayor o' de town. 
 
 Me, I sca'cely ever sees 'er, 
 Less dey 's lots o' men aroun'; 
 But Gord knows I strives to please 'er, 
 'Caze I loves 'er walkin' groun'. 
 
 44 
 
THE FORTUNE-TELLER 
 
 But I's wo'e out to a frazzle 
 C 'lectin' rabbit-foots an' basil 
 An' dem sarpent-toofs an' eonjure-bones she 
 dangles on 'er gown. 
 
 An' I wades de swamps for pizens 
 Though I sho is feared o' snakes, 
 An' dark nights I views uprisin's 
 Of de sperits in de brakes, 
 
 'Caze she say a cross-eyed nigger 
 
 Of my spindle, bow-leg figger 
 Is ordained to 'sciver conjures in de ma'shes 
 an' de lakes. 
 
 An' so dat's de way I do do — 
 
 Love don't mind a thing lak that — 
 
 An' I spec' I is a hoodoo. 
 
 But I don't know whar I's at 
 
 When she calls me ''jduMev sweetness," 
 But de height o' love's completeness 
 
 Is de way she'll even trus' me whilst I pass 
 aroun' de hat. 
 
 45 
 
REVEREND MINGO MILLENYUM'S 
 ORDINATION 
 
 AS RELATED BY HIMSELF 
 
 When I was a little pickanin', 
 
 Down on Sweet-gum Plantation, 
 I used to hear de preacher preach, 
 An' screech an' screech an' screech an' screech, 
 Expoundin' out salvation. 
 
 He'd open up dat Bible-book 
 
 Befo' de congergation, 
 An', Sir, he'd call dem Scriptures out, 
 An' shout an' shout an' shout an' shout, 
 
 Widout no education. 
 
 He nuver knowed 'is A, B, C's, 
 
 Much less pernounciation, 
 But when he'd focus on a page, 
 An' rage an' rage an' rage an' rage, 
 
 Gord sent interpertation. 
 46 
 
•He'd call dem Scriptures out." 
 
•» 
 
REVEREND MILLENYUM 
 
 He'd show de devil's forked tail 
 
 Out clair, in his noration, 
 He'd h'ist dat pitch-fork up on high, 
 An' cry an' cry an' cry an' cry. 
 
 An' p'int insinuation, 
 
 An' I'd brace up an' clench de pew. 
 
 An' try to keep my station, 
 Whilst he'd light up de fumes of hell. 
 An' yell an' yell an' yell an' yell, 
 Tel we could smell damnation! 
 
 One day, I swooned off in a tranch, 
 
 F'om brimstone suffocation, 
 An' red-hot Sins wid forked tails 
 Riz up wid w^ails an' wails an' wails. 
 An' stopped my circulation. 
 
 Den I slid bumpin' down to Hell, 
 
 My senses on vacation; 
 An' w^hen I got whar Satan is, 
 Whar sinners bile an' sizz an' sizz, 
 
 For his partick'lar ration, 
 4 49 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 I warn't no mo'n a cushion o' pins 
 
 Big as de whole creation, 
 An' every pin was a red-hot Sin, 
 A-stickin' in an' a-stickin' in — 
 
 Tel I los' all sinsation. 
 
 I come th'ough on de tranch-room flo', 
 
 Wid de seekers on probation; 
 An' when I heerd 'em screech an' screech 
 '^A babe an' sucklinf called to preach!" 
 
 Dat was my ordination! 
 
 50 
 
ROSES 
 PLANTATION LOVE SONG 
 
 Oh, my Rose ain't white. 
 An' my Rose ain't red. 
 
 An' my Rose don't grow 
 On de vine on de shed. 
 
 But she lives in de cabin 
 Whar de roses twines, 
 
 An' she wrings out 'er clo'es 
 In de shade o' de vines. 
 
 An' de red leaves fall. 
 An' de white rose sheds, 
 
 Tell dey kiver all de groun' 
 Whar my brown Rose treads. 
 
 An' de butterfly comes, 
 An' de bumble-bee, too. 
 
 An' de hummin'-bird hums 
 All de long day th'ough. 
 51 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 An' dey sip at de white, 
 An' dey tas'e at de red. 
 
 An' dey fly in an' out 
 
 O' de vines roun' de shed 
 
 While I comes along 
 
 An' I gethers some buds. 
 
 An' I mecks some remarks 
 About rendiin' an' suds. 
 
 But de birds an' de bees 
 An' de rest of us knows 
 
 Dat we all hangin' roun' 
 Des ter look at my Rose. 
 
 52 
 
COME ALONG, MISS NANCY 
 
 Oh, Nancy Ann is hard to beat — 
 
 Come along, Miss Nancy! 
 Shuffle right along an' twis' yo' feet — 
 
 Come along, Miss Nancy! 
 She wears nmnber 'leven, but it fits 'er neat, 
 An' 'er mouf is a rose an' 'er lips as sweet 
 As de sugar-cane juice when it turns to cuite — 
 Come along. Miss Nancy! 
 Oh, Miss Nancy, 
 
 You's my fancy! 
 
 You is de neates' 
 An' de fleetes' 
 
 An' de sweetes' 
 Gal in town! 
 
 My white folks is rich as a cup o' cream — 
 
 Come along. Miss Nancy! 
 Dey money flows out in a silver stream — 
 
 Come along. Miss Nancy! 
 Dey'll give us a dance eve'y Sat'd'y night. 
 An' a boat on de river when de moon is bright. 
 An' you won't know de diffe'nce but what 
 you's white — 
 
 53 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Come along. Miss Nancy! 
 Oh, Miss Nancy, 
 
 You's my fancy! 
 
 You is de neates' 
 An' de fleetes' 
 
 An' de sweetes' 
 Gal in town! 
 
 54 
 
TIGER-LILIES 
 
 Oh, my little yaller Lily wid de freckles 'erost 
 'er nose, 
 An' 'er purty yaller ruffles roun' de aidges 
 of 'er clo'es, 
 She's my speckled tiger-lily, 
 An' I giggles tell I'm silly 
 When she nods to me a-passin' f 'om de win- 
 der whar she sews. 
 
 An' I looks at my bare foots, an' at my dirty 
 
 gallus strings. 
 An' I knows de mules is waitin' for me at de 
 cattle springs. 
 But wild horses couldn't hinder 
 Me from buzzin' to her winder. 
 An' a-sayin' 'bout a million dozen honey-softie 
 things. 
 
 You may talk about yo' daisy, you may brag 
 
 about yo' rose. 
 But de spotted tiger-lily is de sweetest flower 
 
 dat grows. 
 55 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 All de yether blooms looks jaded. 
 An' dey colors seems all faded, 
 When hit kurtsies to de gyarden in its yaller 
 furbelows. 
 
 Ef you seen my Lily standin' on 'er little yal- 
 ler toes 
 Out behin' de cedars 'mongst de tiger-lily 
 rows, 
 'Cep'n' dat de gal is taller. 
 An' de flowers' bomiets smaller. 
 You couldn't designate 'er when she's hangin' 
 out 'er clo'es. 
 
 Once-t I called her "Tiger-Lily," des to see de 
 
 wRj she'd do. 
 An' she up an' 'spon', "I ain't a bit mo' yal- 
 lerer 'n you!" 
 An' wid dat she sudsed me over, 
 Den she rolled me in de clover. 
 Oh, she's a tiger an' a lily, an' a tiger-lily too. 
 
 56 
 
LUCINDY 
 
 I 
 When Lucindy's eye do shine 
 Lak a ripe, ripe muscadine, 
 
 An' 'er lips sticks out 
 
 In a tantalizin' pout, 
 I counts Lucindy mine. 
 
 II 
 
 When she droop 'er eyes so shy, 
 Lak she gmne ter pass me by. 
 An' des afore she pass 
 Drap 'er hankcher on de grass, 
 My courage rises high. 
 
 in 
 When she sets up in de choir. 
 An' 'er voice mounts higher an' higher. 
 In unisom wid Jim's, 
 A-singin' o' de hymns, 
 I sets back an' puspire. 
 57 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 IV 
 
 When she lean down on 'er hoe, 
 'N' dig de san' up wid 'er toe, 
 
 An' look todes me an' sigh, 
 Des lak she 'mos' could cry, 
 I don't know whar ter go. 
 
 V 
 
 When she walk right down de aisle 
 At de cake-walk wid a smile, 
 
 An' she an' yaller Jake 
 Ketch han's an' win de cake, 
 I steam an' sizz an' bile. 
 
 VI 
 
 While she claim me for her beau. 
 An' den dance de reel wid Joe; 
 
 An' when she swing me by 
 Squeeze my han' on de sly — • 
 I don' know whe'r or no. 
 
 VII 
 
 Tell de trufe, Lucindy's ways 
 Gits me so upsot some days 
 
 Dat, 'cep'n dat I knew 
 Dat's des de way she do, 
 I'd do some damage, 'caze 
 58 
 
'Tell de trufe, Lucindy's ways 
 Gits me so upsot some days — " 
 
LUCINDY 
 
 VIII 
 
 Some days when she do de \vus', 
 Ef 'twarn't dat I hates a fuss, 
 
 An' loves 'er th'ough an' th'ough 
 Wid all de ways she do, 
 De least Fd do'd he cuss. 
 
 61 
 
OH, LOVE'S MY MEAT 
 
 Oh, love's my meat, oh, love's my drink, 
 
 Oh, love's my daily fare; 
 Asleep, awake, forgit or think, 
 I breathes it in the air! 
 Oh^ love, 
 I hear 
 You hummin' 'mongs' de bees! 
 Ohj love, 
 I hear 
 You singin' in de trees! 
 
 Oh, love an' me goes hand in hand. 
 
 When I got a hand to sj)are! 
 A loveless life's a sinkin' sand, 
 A drowndin' soul's despair. 
 Oh, love, 
 I hear 
 You hummin' 'mongs' de bees! 
 Oh, love, 
 I hear 
 You singin' in de trees! 
 62 
 
OH, LOVE'S MY MEAT 
 
 Love made St. Peter walk de sea, 
 
 It built oV Noay's ark. 
 It lit de stars f er you an' me 
 To squench de blindin' dark. 
 Oh^ love, 
 I see 
 You buzzin' 'mongs' de bees! 
 Oh^ love, 
 I hear 
 You singin' in de trees! 
 
 63 
 
WINNIE 
 
 When Winnie steps out o' de stable, 
 
 You nuver would know — less you knowed — 
 
 Dat she had been, sence she was able 
 
 To reach on tiptoe to de table, 
 De biggest humbugger dat growed! 
 
 When she warn't no bigger'n a minute, 
 
 I f ollered 'er roun' like a pup ; 
 We'd sneak to de creek an' wade in it — 
 She'd tuck up 'er frock an' I'd pin it — 
 
 An' dat's d'es de way we growed up. 
 
 One day when she tromped on a briar, 
 'Way down by de gin-wagon track, 
 
 I stepped in de bramble right by 'er, 
 
 Wid my foots a-stingin' like fire. 
 An' toted 'er home on my back. 
 
 Of co'se, I wa5 des like 'er brother — 
 
 I'm fetchin' dis up des for proofs — 
 We could o' sot down close together 
 An' pulled out de thorns for each other, 
 Excep'n' n'air one had front toofs. 
 64 
 
 i 
 
WINNIE 
 
 An' so she belt on ter my shoulder, 
 
 An' talked 'er sweet talk in my ear; 
 Let on dat she liked me to hoi' 'er, 
 An' all sech as dat, tell I toF 'er — 
 Well, 'tain't no use tellin' it here. 
 
 But when we got down ter de open, 
 
 Instid o' me cross-cuttin' short, 
 I tuck de long road, an' it slopin'. 
 An' limped all de way, des a-hopin' 
 She'd 'preshuate me like she ought. 
 
 But after me packin' 'er keerful, 
 
 An' settin' 'er down at 'er do', 
 Instid o' her thankin' me cheerful, 
 De way she cut up was des fearful. 
 She slid f 'om my back to de flo'. 
 
 An' 'fo' I could gether my senses 
 Dat gal she was dancin' a jig; 
 
 She des had been makinf pertences! 
 
 An' here I had dumb over fences 
 Wid her — an' she weighed like a pig. 
 65 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Of co'se dis was whilst we was chillen, 
 
 But when we growed up it was wuss; 
 De way she'd pervoke me was killin', 
 Tell sometimes I'd feel like a villain, 
 An', Lord, but I'd in'ardly cuss! 
 
 She'd ax me to tote 'er pail for 'er, 
 
 An' walk by my side, an' she'd laugh. 
 An' tell me some joy or some sorrer 
 Dat fretted 'er min'. Den to-morrer 
 She'd git me ter hoi' off de calf 
 
 Whilst Pete, a big boy dat I hated, 
 
 Would come an' stan' clost by 'er side 
 An' stiddy de cow, while I waited 
 'Way off 'crost de yard, so frustrated 
 Dat some days I purty nigh cried. 
 
 Dey wasn't no principle in 'er, 
 
 Come down ter sech doin's as dat, 
 'Caze Pete was a miser'ble sinner, 
 An' 'cep' I was Httler an' thinner. 
 Some days I'd o' laid 'im out flat! 
 66 
 
WINNIE 
 
 Well, sir, dat's de way Winnie acted — 
 
 She fooled me straight th'ough all my life; 
 An' when she had got me clair 'stracted. 
 Tell I run at Pete, an' got whachted. 
 
 She turned roun', an' — well, she's my wife. 
 
 L ENVOI 
 
 My 'spe'unce wid Peter was bitter, 
 
 But sometimes it pays ter git hit; 
 'Caze Winnie's a curious critter. 
 An' 'cep' I had resked all ter git 'er, 
 I'd be holdin' off de calf yit. 
 
 67 
 
WASHERWOMAN'S HYMN 
 "THE LORD WALKED IN THE GARDEN" 
 
 He walked in de gyarden in de cool o' de day — 
 
 Lord, whar kin dat gyarden be? 
 I'd turn my weary foots dat way 
 
 An' pray Thee cool de day for me. 
 Lord, Lord, wcdkin' in de gyarden. 
 
 Open de gate to me! 
 rd nuver be afeard o' de flamin' sword, 
 
 Ef I could walk wV Thee. 
 
 He walked in de gyarden in de cool o' de day ; 
 
 He sa'ntered 'mongs' de shrubbery; 
 He nuver turned aroun' to look dat way — 
 
 1 wusht He'd watched dat apple-tree. 
 Lord, Lord, trouble in de gyarden! 
 
 Ev^-ry-bod-y knows 
 Dat sins begins wid needles an' pins 
 An' de scan'lous need o' clo'es. 
 
 He walked in de gyarden in de cool o' de day — 
 My bleachin'-grass ain't fittin' for Thee; 
 
 But dat Bible gyar den's so far away, 
 So, Lord, come bless my fiel' for me! 
 68 
 
WASHERWOMAN'S HYMNi 
 
 Lord, Lord, come into my gyarden! 
 
 EvWy-bod-y knows 
 How Eve's mistake when she listened to de 
 snake 
 
 Still keeps me washin' clones. 
 
 He walked in de gyarden in de cool o' de day — 
 
 Ef I could stand an' see Him pass, 
 Wid de eye o' faith, as de Scripture saith, 
 
 I'd shout heah on my bleachin'-grass. 
 Lord, Lord, my little gyarden 
 
 Ain't no place for Thee; 
 But come an' shine wid a light divine 
 An' fioo my faith for me! 
 
 Glo-ry, glory, hallelujah! 
 Peter, James, an' John, 
 Behol' de Light — an de raiment whitef 
 Yo' visiom 's passin on! 
 
 69 
 
DE STAR IN DE EAST 
 
 Dey's a star in de eas', on a Chris'mas morn, 
 
 Rise up, shepherd, an' f oiler! 
 Hit '11 lead yer to de place whar de Savior's 
 born, 
 Rise up, shepherd, an' f oiler! 
 Ef you tek good heed to de angel's words. 
 You'll forgit yo' flocks an' forgit yo' herds. 
 An' rise up, shex)herd, an' f oiler I 
 Leave yo' sheep, an' 
 Leave yo' lamb, an' 
 Leave yo' ewe, an' 
 Leave yo' ram, an' 
 
 Rise up, shepherd, an' f oiler! 
 Toiler, foller, foUer, foller, 
 Rise, O sinner, rise an' foller, 
 Foller de star 
 F'om near an' far — 
 Foller de star o' Bethlehem! 
 
 Oh, dat star still shines dis Chris'mus day, 
 
 Rise, O sinner, an' foller! 
 Wid 'n' eye o' faith you can see its ray, 
 
 Rise, O sinner, an' foller! 
 70 
 
DE STAR IN DE EAST 
 
 Hit'll light yo' way th'ough de fields o' fros' 
 By way o' de stable to de shinin' Cross. 
 Rise, O sinner, rise an' f oiler! 
 Leave yo' father, 
 Leave yo' mother, v 
 
 Leave yo' sister, 
 Leave yo' brother, 
 
 An' rise, O sinner, an' f oiler! 
 FoUer, foUer, foUer, foUer, 
 Rise, O sinner, rise an' foller, 
 FoUer de star 
 F'om near an' far — 
 Foller de star o' Bethlehem! 
 
 71 
 
OH, SHOUTINGS MIGHTY SWEET 
 PLANTATION PARTING HYMN 
 
 Oh, shoutin's mighty sweet 
 
 When yer shout when yer meet,^ 
 An' shek han's roun', an' say: 
 
 "Bless Gord fur de meetin'! 
 
 Bless Gord fur de greetin'!" 
 Shoutin' comes mighty easy dat a-way. 
 
 But ter shout when yer part, 
 
 An' ter shout f 'om yo' heart, 
 When yer gwine far away, far away, 
 
 Wid a lettin' go han's 
 
 An' a-faein' strange lan's, 
 Shoutin' comes mighty hard sech a day. 
 
 "Glory" sticks in yo' th'oat 
 
 At de whistle o' de boat, 
 Dat cuts lak a knife thoo yo' heart; 
 
 An' "Hallelujah" breaks 
 
 At de raisin' o' de stakes 
 Dat loosens up de ropes ter let 'er start. 
 
 72 
 
OH, SHOUTIN'S MIGHTY SWEET 
 
 But ef yer fix yo' eye 
 
 On de writin' in de sky, 
 Whar de f ar'wells is all strucken out, 
 
 An' read de prormus clair 
 
 Of another geth'rin' there. 
 You kin say far' well, my brothers, with a shout. 
 
 Den shout, brothers, shout! 
 
 Oh, tell yo' vict'ry out. 
 How neither death nur partin' kin undo yer. 
 
 Look fust at yo' loss, 
 
 But last at de Cross, 
 Singin' glory, glory, glory hallelujahl 
 
 73 
 
VOICES 
 
 I RECKON I is, lak you say, sir, 
 Pa'lized an' half 'stracted an' blin', 
 
 An' maybe de voice dat I hear is 
 De win' when it comes thoo de pine. 
 
 I can't 'spute no white pusson's knowledge, 
 I don't know de hows nor de whys, 
 
 An' when I hears heavenly voices, 
 
 Dat seem like dey comes f'om de skies, 
 
 I don't fret myself wid book questions, 
 But listens ter ketch eve'y note. 
 
 An' ef a bird plays me harp music. 
 Don't s'picion de shape of 'is th'oat. 
 
 De katydid, close- 1 to my shoulder, 
 I knows he des saws wid 'is wings. 
 
 But when de Lord sends 'im ter cheer me, 
 He sets in de vines an' he sings! 
 
 He sings songs I half disremember, 
 
 An' all o' mammy's oF hjonns 
 She used ter hum whiles she was washin' 
 
 Right onder deze same ol' tree limbs. 
 
 74 
 
VOICES 
 
 An' even de brook dat's all dried up, 
 
 Dat used ter run down f'om de springs, 
 
 De katydid mixes its tricklin' 
 
 Right in wid de songs mammy sings, 
 
 An' often she'll stop in a measure, 
 An' I'll hear 'er dip down 'er clo'es, 
 
 An' wring 'em an' bat 'em an' rench 'em — 
 All keepin' good time as she goes. 
 
 Yas, I knows de katydid's music 
 Ain't no mo'n shufflin' o' feet. 
 
 But dat nuver hindered 'im learnin' 
 To sing other folks's songs sweet. 
 
 Dis ol' pine-tree over my cabin 
 
 Dat's growed th'ough a hole in de shed, 
 
 I knows it's all blighted an' knotted, 
 An' half of its needles is dead. 
 
 I know whar de thunder-bolt struck it 
 Its heart is split open an' bare, 
 
 An' folks say de spiders is tuck it 
 
 An' swung dey gray webs ever'where. 
 
 75 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 ]But when de night win' passes th'ough it, 
 An' all de plantation's asleep, 
 
 Hit sings me some heavenly promise 
 To 'mind me I'm in de Lord's keep. 
 
 Dey ain't a dry twig or a needle 
 
 But sings its purtikilar note, 
 An' even de holler dat's blasted 
 
 Seem like it turns inter a th'oat. 
 • ••■•• 
 
 Yas, I knows I's pa'lized an' blinded, 
 
 An' half 'stracted, des lak you say, 
 An' co'se I ain't got educatiom 
 
 To splain aU my comforts away. 
 
 So when a ol' bumble-bee fetches 
 Some story 'bout when I was young, 
 
 Dat I done forgot, 'cep' in snatches — 
 I don't make 'im show me 'is tongue. 
 
 I don't ax no impident questions; 
 
 Jes listens ter ketch eve'y note. 
 An' when a bird sings me harp music, 
 
 Don't s'picion de shape of 'is th'oat. 
 
 76 
 
O MY SOUL, YOU MUS' BE WALKIN' IN YO' 
 SLEEP 
 
 O MY soul, you mus' be walkin' in yo' sleep, 
 'Caze you nuver seems to heed de danger 
 lines ; 
 When you skirts de verges whar de water's 
 deep, 
 An' you leads my foots to thorns an' tangled 
 vines — 
 Yas, I's feared you sho is walkin' in yo' sleep. 
 
 Walkin', walkin' — gropin', gropin' — 
 Groj)in' in yo' sleep; 
 
 O my soul, I's hopin', hopin' 
 Dat you'll wake befo' you stumble in yo' sleep. 
 
 O my soul, you mus' be walkin' in yo' sleep. 
 Or you wouldn't dast to stray so fur from 
 home, 
 Whar de gurglin' laugh and playin' fountains 
 leap 
 
 77 
 
PLANTATION SONGS 
 
 Tel de conscience-call is drownded in de 
 foam. 
 Better quit dis packless strayin' in yo' sleep! 
 
 Walkin', laughin' — laughin', gropin* — 
 Gropin' in yo' sleep ; 
 
 O my laughin' soul, I's hopin' 
 Dat yo' laugh won't turn to weepin' in yo' 
 sleep. 
 
 O my soul, you mus' be walkin' in yo' sleep 
 
 'Les' you'd reco'nize de tempter by yo' side 
 Wid de sugar tongue an' swishin' flounces' 
 sweep — 
 
 Look ag'in, my soul, bef o' you take a bride ! 
 O my soul, you better wake up f 'om yo' sleep. 
 
 Walkin', walkin' — gropin', gropin' — 
 Gropin' in yo' sleep ; 
 
 O my blinded soul, I's hopin' 
 Dat you'll reco'nize yo' danger in yo' sleep. 
 
 Yas, you better wake, my soul, wake f 'om yo' 
 sleep, 
 'Fo' you signs away yo' freedom in a dream; 
 Rub yo' eyes an' look — Oh, look befo' you 
 leap ! 
 An' beware de pleasu'e boats on Jordan's 
 stream! 
 
 78 
 
O MY SOUL 
 
 Wake, my soul, an' stop yo' walkin' in yo' 
 sleep ; 
 
 Gropin', walkin' — walkin', gropin' — 
 In de dark o' sleep; 
 
 Soon you'll wake, I's hopin', hopin', 
 'Caze it's mighty dang'ous walkin' in yo' sleep. 
 
 79 
 
OH, DE LORD, HE WALKED DE WATERS 
 
 Oh, de Lord, He walked de waters — oh, de 
 Lord, He trod de sea — 
 Be still, ye waves, be still! 
 or Peter tried to f oiler, but his faith was weak 
 o' knee — 
 Be still, ye waves, be still! 
 
 Be still— be stiU— 
 Oh, surgin' tide, be still! 
 Though yo' heart is troubled waters an' yo' 
 soul, it is a sea; 
 Be still — ^be still. 
 An' fear no storm or ill. 
 An' de feet dat ca'med de sea will bless de 
 waves o' life for thee. 
 
 Oh, de Savior healed de blind an' tol' de rich 
 man "FoUer Me"— 
 Be still, my heart, be still; 
 An' ol' Zachaeus, he watched 'Im f'om a syca- 
 mory tree — 
 Be still, my heart, be still; 
 80 
 
HE WALKED DE WATERS 
 
 Be still— be still— 
 Oh, doubtin' soul, be still; 
 Plenty trees of observation on de way to 
 Jericho — 
 Be still— be still— 
 Cas' yo' eyes above de hill; 
 An' de Savior '11 see you watchin' an' He'll 
 call to you, I know. 
 
 Be still— be still— 
 Oh, surgin' life, be still. 
 For yo' heart is troubled waters an' yo' soul, 
 it is a sea; 
 Be still— be still— 
 An' fear no storm or ill, 
 Let de feet dat blessed de ocean ca'm de: 
 waves o' life fer thee. 
 
 81 
 
OH, HEABEN'S MIGHTY CLOSE 
 
 Oh, Heaben's mighty close, 
 
 Yas, close, yas, close, 
 Ef you got a yeah to listen 
 
 To de hos', to de hos', 
 Ef you got a yeah to listen to de sto-ry! 
 
 Oh, Heaben's mighty nigh, 
 
 Yas, nigh, yas, nigh, 
 Ef you got a' eye fer visions 
 
 In de sky, in de sky, 
 Ef you got a' eye fer visiors o' de glo-ry! 
 
 82 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
THE SEA OF PEACE 
 
 I STAND above a white-rimmed sea: 
 Its deeps are miine, its mirrored height; 
 
 Mine its low plaint of mystery, 
 All mine its glee-song of delight. 
 
 Mine its strong soul; its body mine; 
 
 I lave me in its kind embrace; 
 In dreams upon its buoyant brine 
 
 It gives me back a cherished face. 
 
 Mayhap it helps me understand 
 
 The language of infinity, 
 The secret of the shifting sand. 
 
 The testimony of the sea. 
 
 I am above all circumstance, 
 I am beyond all power to hurt ; 
 
 No more I shrink from sorrow's lance 
 So with all strength am I begirt. 
 85 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 I've tasted of the bitter sup; 
 
 Earth's bulwarks all are proven frail; 
 Yet sweetened now is life's low cup, 
 
 All hallowed: 'tis my Holy Grail. 
 
 Above its wrecks of ships and men 
 The placid ocean shows no scars; 
 
 Above my deeps where storms have been 
 My tranquil soul reflects the stars. 
 
 86 
 
CONSECRATION 
 
 Were I a crevice in a crumbling wall, 
 
 Mayhap some bird would let me hold her 
 
 nest ; 
 O blessed consciousness of home and rest ! 
 I'd feel the throbbing of her tender breast 
 
 And hear her answer to her fond mate's call. 
 
 Or, failing this, I'd be the empty space; 
 'Twere better than a fullness less than best. 
 And reverent longing for a homeless guest 
 Would fill me, till my emptiness were blest: 
 
 Where welcome waits is ne'er a cheerless place. 
 
 To be the darkness when the lamp is out — 
 To free tired eyes from tyranny of light 
 Which limits them to trivial things in sight — 
 To hold the kiss of Love and know no 
 fright — 
 
 O blessed darkness, thou art Love's redoubt! 
 
 I'd be the dark, earth's confidence to own; 
 The venerable darkness, first to hear 
 87 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 God's spoken word, and, trembling, disap- 
 pear; 
 
 The first His clemency to know — to wear. 
 In equal reign mth light, a star-gemmed 
 crown. 
 
 I'd be the silence, rather than the song — 
 The stillness which abides when it is sung; 
 And, better than the sun, its moons among, 
 I'd be the azure space in which are flung 
 
 All constellations which to God belong. 
 
 I'd be that last abstraction which abides, 
 DiiFused, invisible, through time and space — 
 Which thinks the roses — holds the stars in 
 
 place — 
 Wliich shines in radiance from a mother's 
 face, 
 And, shy as opal flame, illumes the bride's. 
 
 I'd be the stir of hfe within the clod 
 
 When it conceives the image of a flower; 
 I'd be the throbbing secret of the bower; 
 Yes, rd he Love — iny nothingness all 
 power; 
 But, wait! How dare one say, "I would be 
 GOD!" 
 
 88 
 
ALLEGIANCE 
 
 To be a broken promise? Hideous thing! 
 Yet who am I to all God's ethics know? 
 If grandsires promised for me seons ago 
 That I should quibble tlius or simj)er so, 
 
 As broken pledge I fain would meet my king. 
 
 I'd e'en disown the vow myself had made. 
 If yesterday I let the tempter in 
 And he and I a compact did begin 
 Committing this frail vessel unto sin — 
 
 I'd be that pledge's forfeit, undismayed. 
 
 For I am not mine own, but hold in trust 
 Myself, slight emanation of high God, 
 And though my human guardianship may 
 
 nod. 
 Till conscience wakes it with a sharpened 
 prod, 
 I render Heaven its own, because I must. 
 
 89 
 
DISARMAMENT 
 
 Faint doubters of Life's brooding constancy. 
 Lay reverent ears against the heart of her 
 In joyous Springtime — when her soul's 
 astir 
 
 With vestal tremors o'er the mystery. 
 
 List her maternal throb, ye carping host. 
 In Summer drowse and languor, while the 
 
 blaze 
 Of sun returned in daisies stars the haze 
 
 Foreboding Autumn's titillating frost. 
 
 Mark ye her bounding pulse when Winter's 
 blades 
 Come charging for her heart — to find it fire, 
 And all his swords are melted in desire, 
 
 Safe in Life's holy hibernating shades. 
 
 Awaiting thus the resurrection morn 
 Of Spring again with age-long surety, 
 Neath Winter's truce, in all security — 
 
 So cycling immortality is born. 
 
 90 
 
DISARMAMENT 
 
 What fires lie hidden in the heart of Life 
 Be they not lit of God, Himself to prove, 
 Be they not dross-consuming fires of Love? 
 
 'Tis fire divine must fuse the swords of strife. 
 
 O heart of man, invite the enemy 
 But to disarm him with Love's holy flame. 
 Forever putting enmity to shame, 
 
 And ye remain as brothers, thou and he! 
 
 91 
 
BEWARE THE LEAVEN 
 
 Extreme abasement oft is vanity; 
 
 'Tis conscious seKliood begs to be effaced; 
 Proud ego would be formally erased, 
 As if it mattered how were atoms placed. 
 
 Beware the leaven of the Pharisee. 
 
 Better the field at sunrise and the plow; 
 By earth and sky both arm and courage 
 
 nerved; 
 The day's rewards were aye to him who 
 
 served. 
 And bread precarious to such as swerved. 
 Man's royal gems are sweat-beads on his brow. 
 
 92 
 
MARY 
 
 To Judah's maid an angel came: 
 
 Prepare, dear heart, prepare. 
 When the angel came to the little maid, 
 And she heard his voice, she was sore afraid 
 At the sorrowful, beautiful words that he said : 
 
 "O Mary, maid, prepare." 
 
 Maid Mary waits at the stable door ; 
 
 Prepare, dear Lord, prepare 
 A little bed for Thy maid to rest, 
 For she stands without by Thy strange be- 
 hest — 
 Begs but a place to lay Thy guest — 
 
 For Mary, Lord, prepare. 
 
 A mother-maid lies white within, 
 
 God's circle round her hau\ 
 Dumb kneeling brutes the wonder see; 
 A star attests the mystery. 
 While sage and shepherd reverently 
 
 Bring praise and incense rare. 
 93 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 A virgin-mother-queen's in state, 
 
 Her ermine robe her hair. 
 The stable dim a palace is; 
 Its moss-rimmed troughs are chalices ; 
 There lips whereon no malice is 
 
 Drink to the royal heir. 
 
 94 
 
BETHLEHEM 
 
 Oh, Bethlehem, starred Bethlehem, 
 Bright with the coronation gem 
 Upon thy brow through history, 
 Whose eyes have seen the mystery, 
 Hail brow and eyes and diadem — 
 Hail, Bethlehem! 
 
 Dear Bethlehem, old BetlJehem, 
 'Twas thine the tide of time to stem. 
 The world was tired; its grizzled folk, 
 Hope- weary, heard the centuries' stroke, 
 When cry of birth arrested them 
 From Bethlehem. 
 
 Hence, Bethlehem, young Bethlehem, 
 Thine ancient days thou mayst contemn 
 While all the cycles since engage 
 To celebrate thy youthful age. 
 Earth's years are young; she counteth them 
 From Bethlehem. 
 
 Oh, Bethlehem, Queen Bethlehem, 
 Of hallowed lap and diadem, 
 
 95 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 Thy Kohinoor, it is a star; 
 Thy hands are white as lilies are; 
 Thy song is sorrow's requiem, 
 Queen Bethlehem. 
 
 96 
 
THE GENTLING YEARS 
 
 All my days I will go softly, softly down the 
 
 homeward slope, 
 Crimson certitudes of childhood tempered now 
 to amber hope 
 Shining through the seaward gate, 
 While the kindly winds are blowing 
 And the genthng years come snowing — 
 Snowing on my willing pate. 
 
 Faith in life and faith in loving — faith in des- 
 tiny supreme. 
 Led my soul through dreary marshes, as a star 
 seen in a dream 
 Brightened tlirough its dim estate ; 
 Precious star still clearly glowing 
 Though gray gentling years are snow- 
 ing— 
 Snowing on my bended pate. 
 
 What would life be but for dreaming, with a 
 faith-star e'er in sight? 
 
 Think of naught beyond its stillness of a some- 
 times starless night, 
 97 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 In the awful calm of fate! 
 So I praise the fitful blowing 
 Of the gentling years which, snowing, 
 
 Bid my eager spirit wait. 
 
 And I bear their truce to battle — truce to sor- 
 row and despair, 
 Silent gift of winds and weather — conquerors 
 of my rebel hair — 
 As I near the little gate; 
 In my face cool sea-spray blowing 
 Through pale genthng years which, 
 snowing, 
 Lay white hands to bless my pate. 
 
 l'enyoi 
 If my soul be white as snow is, clear as light 
 
 my spirit's ray. 
 When at last it strikes the prism of the ocean, 
 on its way 
 Through the gate against the sea, 
 Voila! Colors for my sailing! 
 Rainbow stripes o'er stars prevailing; 
 Who says death shall conquer me ! 
 
 98 
 
SITTING BLIND BY THE SEA 
 
 Oh, sing me a song of the sea, my son — 
 
 Oh, sing me a song of the sea! 
 For my eyes they are blind and I j)eer in the 
 
 dark. 
 But my man-heart leaps when the sea-dogs 
 
 bark ; 
 Can thy young eyes follow the yelping pack? 
 Wild, bounding streaks of yellow and black. 
 Do they track over meadows of seething foam? 
 And will they be fetching the white gulls 
 home? 
 Mayhap they'll retrieve one to me — 
 To me, sitting blind by the sea. 
 
 To me in my door by the sea, sitting blind, 
 
 To me, sitting blind in my door. 
 Days be when a battle is raging afar. 
 And the tramp of the cavalry crossing the bar 
 Comes nearer and clearer with many a gun. 
 So plain to my ears while I sit in the sun 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 That I'm sure there'll be many a rambow at 
 
 play 
 In and out of the manes and the tails of the 
 spray, 
 As the chargers plunge down in the roar 
 To me, sitting blind in my door. 
 
 To me, sitting blind in the night by the sea, 
 
 Sitting blind by the sea in the night. 
 Times be when she. purrs, a gray cat, at my 
 
 knee — 
 Oh, the glow on the hearth and the mother 
 
 and thee ! 
 'Twas a hitch m her rocker that memory kept. 
 And I'd know when it eased that our wee lad- 
 die slept. 
 The sea has it all, to the creak in her chair. 
 And I, peering blind, see the glint in her hair ; 
 And it floods my lone soul with delight. 
 Sitting dark in my door in the night. 
 
 To me, sitting dark by the sea in my door. 
 
 To me, by the sea sitting blind. 
 Rare times comes a silence as still as a cave. 
 And I know 'tis His night when He walks on 
 the wave; 
 
 100 
 
SITTING BLIND BY THE SEA 
 
 And, "strong in the faith," with my feet on the 
 
 land. 
 My soul speeds beside Him. I'd strive for 
 
 His hand 
 To lay on my eyes, but ah! ever before 
 I reach Him, He's gone — ^and I back in my 
 door. 
 All alone, by a whiff of the wind. 
 In my door by the sea, sitting blind. 
 
 Still it's sing me a song of the sea, my son — 
 
 Oh, sing me a song of the sea! 
 And sorrow's slow leaven I'll nurse nevermore. 
 For the soul of the sea signals mine on the 
 
 shore, 
 Deep calling to deep, high answering high. 
 Till my bosom, like Ocean's, is gemmed with 
 
 the sky; 
 And when the moon comes — crown pearl of 
 
 Night's crest. 
 Thy mother's white soul lies c^ain on my 
 breast; 
 And with this Decoration — and thee — 
 I am knighted and rich by the sea. 
 
 101 
 
COMPANIONSHIP 
 
 Beside a winter sea I held her hand ; 
 The sun, low sunken in a molten glare, 
 Revealed a flitting radiance in her hair 
 When darkness fell; then tui'ned we to the 
 
 land; 
 Reluctantly we climbed the oozing sand 
 With tightened grasp, and, loving, scorned 
 
 to care 
 That moaning waves' complaining stilled us 
 there 
 Against the din of earth's incessant band. 
 
 O vast eternity, thou roaring sea 
 
 Which through both day and darkness call- 
 est on — 
 O noisy time which babblest constantly 
 
 In earthly clamorings from sun to sun — 
 What if, hushed by ye twain, they silenced be. 
 
 If two may fare together — walk as one? 
 
 102 
 
APRIL DREAMING 
 
 Impulse of violets wakes the air 
 
 In vestal shade where dozes 
 On down of mist miladi fair, 
 And when shy sunbeams gem her hair 
 She smiles into the rainbow there; 
 
 'Tis April, dreaming roses. 
 
 Bright wings of unborn butterflies 
 
 And leaves of daffodillies 
 Drift gaily through her dreamland skies, 
 While dim and white and angelwise. 
 On filmy moon-wings float and rise 
 
 The souls of Easter lilies. 
 
 103 
 
THE BLUE 
 
 My childhood eyes 
 Loved flecked skies 
 
 With fancy-varied scenes, 
 Wliere ^osion dear 
 Or far or near 
 
 Surveyed Hope's fair demesnes. 
 
 In womanhood 
 When life was good, 
 
 Its round horizon "ours," 
 We loved, we tr^^o, 
 The steadfast blue; 
 
 Our knees were 'mongst the flowers. 
 
 So, God of light. 
 When looming night 
 
 Impairs my lonely view, 
 Take Tliou away 
 My sense of gi'ay 
 But spare my starht blue. 
 
 104 
 
SERVICE 
 
 To be a knot upon a fallen log 
 
 Were no mean thing, if my slight eminence 
 Were clad in green for some poor worm's 
 
 defense ; 
 Or, I might be, O happy recompense, 
 
 A sunny isle for creatures of the bog; 
 
 The timid tortoise would essay my crown 
 To prison glints of sunshine in his shell, 
 And birds the world calls dumb would come 
 
 and tell, 
 With breasts to mine, their joys and sorrows 
 feU, 
 And they and I a common kinship own. 
 
 105 
 
THE CYCLE 
 
 I 
 
 NATURE'S RHYTHM 
 
 In ebb and flow, with come and go. 
 
 Incessant, o'er and o'er. 
 By wave and tide, as man a bride. 
 
 The ocean woos the shore. 
 
 So soft caressed, so urged, so pressed, 
 
 The willing sand is won 
 To jSTeptime's bed; the twain are wed. 
 
 And continents are born. 
 
 In flash of fire, flame-tongued desire 
 
 Takes heaven by assault; 
 One lurid breath, then — is it death? 
 
 Is law of life at fault? 
 
 Each frenzied flare of sentient air, 
 
 Ripe for this fiery kiss, 
 Sends teeming waves of passion slaves 
 
 Down destiny's abyss. 
 106 
 
THE CYCLE 
 
 Begot of flame and brides sans name, 
 The amorous breeze is theirs 
 
 Which blows your curl, O heedless girl. 
 To his, who waits your snares. 
 
 Two living wires, spiraled desires — 
 
 A heedless interlock — 
 The marvel's done — the "two as one" — 
 
 Unhurried ticks Life's clock. 
 
 Its pendulum, with slow humdrum, 
 Swinging mid grime and rust, 
 
 A thresher is of destinies, 
 In grains of living dust. 
 
 There's quickening mold in mummy-fold ; 
 
 Not e'er our "dead" are dead; 
 We free in clod a germ of God 
 
 With each "destroying" tread. 
 
 So goes the tide — a man, a bride — 
 In heaven 'tis sun and moon 
 
 Which alternate to re-create 
 The midnight and the noon. 
 107 
 
II 
 
 THE MOSAIC LAW 
 COMPENSATION 
 
 What saith the law, in formal awe? 
 
 "An eye for an eye — ^no more 
 Nor less, forsooth, than tooth for tooth" ; 
 
 Cool justice keeps the score. 
 
 Praise Father God who quicked the clod, 
 Praise Mother Earth, for birth, 
 
 Man, son of both, and nothing loath. 
 Seize Heaven with holy mirth. 
 
 This gift divine, thy coimtersign. 
 
 Is e'en a royal dole; 
 Thou, else, as sod, by "breath of God" 
 
 A living, laughing soul. 
 
 Then laugh, oh, laugh, mirth's chalice quaff 
 
 Thou master at Life's feast ; 
 The tinkling cup is his to sup 
 
 Who dominates the beast. 
 108 
 
THE MOSAIC LAW 
 
 Yet rue, oh, rue the balance true, 
 
 For laughter sways to tears ; 
 High hopes, soul-born in man's first morn. 
 
 Found complement in fears. 
 
 From joy to pain, from boon to bane. 
 
 From youth to whitened hair. 
 The swing's the same, whate'er its name; 
 
 Life's gamut all is there. 
 
 Crawled, in the wake of God, the snake 
 
 In Eden's primal dell; 
 'Gainst faith all fair looms black despair; 
 
 Even Heaven bespeaks a hell. 
 
 So saith the law, in formal awe, 
 "An eye for an eye — no more 
 
 Nor less, forsooth, than tooth for tooth"; 
 For justice keeps the score. 
 
 109 
 
Ill 
 
 THE GOSPEL 
 EMANCIPATION 
 
 Came a day when man grew weary — came a 
 day when man complained : 
 "How long, O Lord, how long! 
 
 Vestal-fair om* souls at sunrise, at each going 
 down are stained; 
 Are battles to the strong? 
 
 Sitting at the feet of Wisdom, in her seven- 
 pillared hall. 
 
 Hear the stranger-women clamour to entice 
 us with their call 
 
 To the groves of stolen waters, troubled foun- 
 tains and corrupt; 
 
 Lord, how dare we lift our voices, when with 
 harlots we have supped! 
 A dirge must be our song. 
 
 " 'Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness 
 and all her paths are peace,' 
 Yet Life is dense and far; 
 110 
 
THE GOSPEL 
 
 Can we rout the Philistines or gather in a gol- 
 den fleece 
 In fields where lilies are? 
 Grant thy people, Lord, a vision, lest they 
 
 perish by the way, 
 Weary of Life's rocking cradle, day for night 
 
 and night for day," 
 He who sitteth in the heavens. Master of part 
 
 of life's plan. 
 Listened — cloved — and loving, pitied: 'Cross 
 man's prayer the current ran. 
 And flashed in Bethl'em's star! 
 
 Ill 
 
BROTHERHOOD 
 
 I 
 
 What's become of the Star in the East? 
 
 Has battle-smoke of wars 
 Obscured its beam in the crown of night, 
 While doomed men in red-darkness fight 
 (With a groping sense of wrong or right) 
 And clench and die, by the lm4d blight 
 
 Of the bloody eye of Mars? 
 
 Where are the reverent Wise Men gone 
 Who followed the Bethlehem star? 
 
 Did they flee in fright from its gleaming road 
 
 When dim at its end the dark Cross stood? 
 
 Have they lost their way in the bleak, black 
 wood ? 
 
 Have they ridden to hounds and tasted blood? 
 Are the Wise Men gone to war? 
 
 Where is the little manger-bed 
 
 Where the Prince of Peace was born? 
 112 
 
BROTHERHOOD 
 
 They found it lost in slime and weeds, 
 Where pestilential famine breeds, 
 And they've made it a trough where the war- 
 horse feeds. 
 In a stable "reclaimed for his country's needs," 
 By a lord of war and scorn. 
 
 Where are the flames of prophecy. 
 
 Lighted at Pentecost 
 To flash Love's word through every tongue? 
 In conflict's Babel, all unstrung. 
 Are theirs the alien curses flung 
 Across grim battle-lines — ^which rung 
 
 As taught of Holy Ghost? 
 
 Where's sweet Mother Mary now. 
 
 Who bided last at the Cross? 
 Behold, she waits as she waited then. 
 Her soul in travail of birth again. 
 For every woman's a mother of men. 
 And each her son, when a man is slain. 
 
 Be she maid in her vestal floss. 
 
 Where are the angel guards who said, 
 
 "He is risen from the tomb"? 
 With wings adroop and joyance fled. 
 Low on his breast drops each his head 
 
 113 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 In sorrow, while he moans instead, 
 ^'Despair, O man, thy Lord is dead; 
 His grave thy final doom"? 
 
 All no, joy, no! Love's star still gleams 
 
 Above Faith's hostelry 
 Where God-in-man's enshrined for aye; 
 A living world keeps Easter Day; 
 Star-led, come wise men still to pay 
 Rich tribute in their newer way 
 
 To haloed mystery. 
 
 Anointing thus the long-foretold, 
 
 By star of Love enticed, 
 Crowning the lowly "newborn son 
 Of humble virgin, stable-born," 
 As King — by prophecies forerun — 
 Came out the Wise ]Men, every one 
 
 Himself a healing Christ. 
 
 To heal, to lift, to bind, to save — 
 
 Ordained to ministry 
 By laying on of infant hand. 
 Come still earth's little faithful band 
 Of those who love and understand 
 The brotherhood of man — on land 
 
 And sailing every sea. 
 114 
 
BROTHERHOOD 
 
 What matter, Teuton, Slav, or Gaul, 
 
 Or Anglo- Anything, 
 If this, their watchword, be not lost 
 Through tongues confused and kinship 
 
 glossed? 
 Heaven send another Pentecost, 
 Till BROTHEEHOOD all tongucs has crossed 
 
 From peasant unto king. 
 
 II 
 
 The little brother to the Czar — 
 
 The serf in battle slain, 
 Conscripted oft without his will 
 In able manhood — fit to kill — 
 And his frail comrade, weak and ill, 
 Retained the hea^y lands to till — 
 
 Both brand their king as Cain! 
 
 If first and best are sacrificed 
 
 And epileptics thrive, 
 Begetting by their feeble strain 
 In pale successors of the slain 
 ^¥hose sons within their loins have lain 
 In soldiers' trenches — whence again 
 
 Will virile men arrive? 
 8 115 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AXD LOVE 
 
 Why not send idiots to fight? 
 
 Conscript the leper camps? 
 Wipe out the White Plague on the field? 
 Soldiers of coui^ge it would yield! 
 Perhaps our murderers might be healed 
 By overwork — and kindly shield 
 
 From prisons' gloom and damps. 
 
 If kill we must, let's wisely kill. 
 Cast out the world's "unfit"; 
 Force paupers to "a noble diance 
 To win renown," mth gun and lance; 
 Insane asylums would advance 
 All needed generals — and dance 
 With glee of doddering wit! 
 
 But now's no time for cap and bells 
 
 (Though fools' words oft are good). 
 Father of mercy, grant surcease 
 Of strife, and send a quick release 
 To men in bonds to kings' caprice ; 
 Let all earth's travail bring forth peace 
 Conceived in brotherhood. 
 
 116 
 
LIFE'S ARRAIGNMENT 
 LIFE'S GENERAL ARRAIGNMENT 
 
 Grim god of carnage, armed witli spear and 
 shield, 
 
 Craven equipment, tliis, thy godsliip wears, 
 Thou whose theatre is the reddened field 
 
 Where Tragedy thy comedies prepares, 
 
 List, LIFE'S ARRAIGNMENT, whilst 
 thy crimes it bares! 
 Call, for a moment's space, thy war-dogs in 
 While fertile fields confront thee with their 
 tares 
 And Hunger mocks thee with her bony 
 grin! 
 
 Let widows, orphans, sonless men begin 
 
 As creditors preferred in equity; 
 Stalwart young souls who passed in smoke 
 and din 
 Arise as astral shades to challenge thee! 
 117 
 
SONGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 BLACK-ROBED WIDOWS WITH CHILDREN, SOME IN 
 ARMS 
 
 We, thy comedians' widows, wed and left 
 
 With these to rear, some e'en to bear alone, 
 That thou mightst feast and laugh at us, 
 bereft, 
 The father's lightnings blast thee on thy 
 throne 
 
 Till fallen 'neath thy bloody star, alone. 
 Cursed by each opal of the milky way, 
 
 All bane be thine save death and senseless 
 bone ! 
 This take from wronged motherhood at bay! 
 
 THE DEAD 
 
 We are the dead, thy plantings of the field; 
 
 Above the din of guns and o'er the shout 
 Of Victory thy ribald laughter pealed; 
 
 We heard its mocking while our souls went 
 out 
 
 And Imew ourselves thy fools with no redoubt. 
 Thou callest brave men to an easy task, 
 118 
 
LIFE'S ARRAIGNMENT 
 
 "To die for Truth!" Thy sophistries we flout! 
 And know thee tyrant through thy noble 
 mask. 
 
 "To live for Truth!" In this let heroes bask! 
 To offer unto Heaven LIFE'S battle- 
 scars ! 
 "Hearts broken?" Aye, and bleeding hands 
 they'd ask, 
 With heads uncovered underneath the stars. 
 
 THIN GRAY WOMEN WITH WISTFUL EYES 
 
 We are thy spinsters, childless and unwed; 
 Where are our mates? Our sons and 
 daughters ? Say, 
 Thou monster who darest rob the marriage 
 bed 
 To make thyself a pagan holiday ! 
 
 "Give us our men?" Ah, nay, the time's away; 
 
 Our breasts are dry and cold, though hearts 
 aflame 
 Arraign thee thus ! Yet wreaths for us today 
 
 Of rue and rosemary are all we claim. 
 
 Of rosemary for each loved hero's name 
 Writ in our hearts in deathless memory; 
 119 
 
SOXGS OF LIFE AND LOVE 
 
 E'en in this dim gray underside of Fame, 
 Our sorrow's crown we needs must take of 
 thee. 
 
 DIM CHERUB FACES, PEERING THROUGH BARS 
 
 We are the unborn at the gate of life, 
 
 Sons of these gentle spinsters robbed by 
 thee 
 Of Motherhood and honored name of Wife ; 
 Where are our Fathers whom thou heldst 
 in fee? 
 
 Our mothers' patient eyes we dimly see, 
 And read of LIFE in prisms of their tears ; 
 
 Our phantom fingers touch theirs constantly 
 With wistful longing through the silent 
 years. 
 
 ALL 
 
 Oh, Holy Spirit, Dove of Peace, arise! 
 Beyond war's crimson flood where demons 
 
 wait, 
 Cull Thou the olive branch to glad wet eyes 
 Waiting deliverance from untoward fate. 
 
 God of our fathers, Thou, Jehovah, gj'eat, 
 God of our mothers, Jesu, Mary's Son, 
 120 
 
LIFE'S ARRAIGNMENT 
 
 Dethrone for aye War's gruesome god of 
 Hate, 
 And see Thy reign of LOVE and PEACE 
 begun! 
 
 121 
 
LIFE AND THE VISION 
 
 Remote and dim uprears the apex pale 
 
 Of yonder heaven-conununing mountain 
 
 crest, 
 White clouds, like lost birds, homing on its 
 breast ; 
 Warm, pulsing life waits low within the vale 
 In ardent soil whence purpling lilies hail. 
 
 And joy in love is sung from every nest; 
 Here, clapping hands, the hills their glee attest. 
 While reed-brooks purl contentment in the 
 dale. 
 
 So is Life's mountain at its broadest girth, 
 All big and bringing forth, yea, pregnant 
 eke 
 With flower and song, its ground-streams 
 chanting birth. 
 Unconscious of the vision at the peak 
 Where, rapt, the poet, for the sons of earth, 
 gings LIFE and LOVE — nor recks his 
 lone height bleak. 
 122 
 
JUST FOR FUN 
 
YE MERRY PEACEMAKERS 
 
 Does the dog-star guard the diamonds in 
 Orion's shining belt? 
 Did Capricorn butt through the IVIilky 
 Way? 
 Did Mars turn red to show the moon how mor- 
 tified he felt 
 When the shooting stars went skirmishing 
 for play? 
 Oh, I'm sorely, sorely puzzled, 
 And the puzzle-solver's muzzled; 
 Does the dog-star — did Capricorn — did 
 Mars 
 In the ways above propounded? 
 Oh, I'm puzzled and confounded, 
 For I'm starting up an interest in the 
 stars. 
 
 Do the Dryads go joy-riding in Aurora's rosy 
 car. 
 Through the forests while her ladyship's 
 asleep ? 
 
 125 
 
JUST FOR FUN 
 
 Speeding back before she rises with the early 
 morning star. 
 Her engagement with the jealous sun to 
 keep? 
 Oh, I wonder and I wonder. 
 Would a Dryad dare such plunder? 
 For to "swipe" a ride is worse than steal- 
 ing pelf, 
 With no chance at restitution 
 And the direst retribution 
 Throwing joyers daily out upon the shelf! 
 
 Does one need to see the sea to get a notion 
 of an ocean? [deep? 
 
 Do the moon-fish and the star-fish light the 
 When the sword-fish fall in battle, do the dag- 
 gers get promotion? 
 Do their widows mourn in sea-weeds while 
 they weep? 
 Oh, such agitating question 
 Is impairing my digestion, 
 Even threatening interference with my 
 sleep. 
 So I'm striving and contriving 
 For investigating diving. 
 For I'm deeply interested in the deep. 
 126 
 
YE MERRY PEACEMAKERS 
 
 Do the spear-fish mount sea-horses in the cav- 
 alry brigade, 
 When they quell an insurrection of the Fins? 
 Are the sea-wives and the mermaids in at- 
 tendance at parade? [begins? 
 Do the trumpet-fish blow when the show 
 Does their military clatter 
 Go "Ra — ^ta — ta — ta — t a — t a — ta ! ' ' 
 When the drum-fish sound the morning 
 reveille, 
 While the moon-fish go in hiding 
 And the sun-fish loom presiding. 
 And the ray-fish "douse their glims" and 
 swim away? 
 
 Do the saw-fish and the hammers keep the sea- 
 w^all in repair? 
 Is the king-fish democratic for a whim? 
 Does he spurn the seals and crests and all the 
 heavy swells forswear, 
 Just because the little fish are in the swim? 
 Oh, I'm puzzled, sorely puzzled, 
 And the puzzle-solver's muzzled; 
 Do the sky- and field- and sea-folk great 
 and small, 
 In the ways above propounded? 
 127 
 
JUST FOR FUN 
 
 Oh, I'm puzzled and confounded, 
 For I'm always interested in them all! 
 
 So, let's build an incombustible. 
 Invisible, adjustable. 
 Amphibious machine, with searchlight 
 small, 
 And steer without commotion 
 Through the woods and sky and 
 ocean. 
 Dear Inventors, then we'll understand 
 them all! 
 
 We'll plunge beneath each submarine, and 
 learn its bottom fact ; 
 Play leapfrog ivith the Zeppelins in the air; 
 For, as vve'Il be invisible, there'll be no need for 
 tact, [be fair. 
 
 Though, of course, as neutral nations, we'll 
 Still, if they're too iniquitous. 
 We'll make oui^selves ubiquitous. 
 And flabbergast, with windy, noisy stunts, 
 All vessels of hostility, 
 Until, in awed humility. 
 They'll hoist their truce and sue for peace 
 at once. 
 
 128 
 
OCTOBER 
 
 A FANTASY 
 
 The Autumn god swears he is sober, 
 Tho' purple his cheek as the vine, 
 
 While he toasts "Octo-to-to-to-to-ber" 
 In queer apple juice and new wdne. 
 
 The cider-mills w^hir on the hillside, 
 
 While Robin, half drunk in the tree, 
 Throws madrigals over the millside, 
 
 Ecstatic in rollicking glee; 
 His red vest distended with berries 
 
 Distilled in the spirit of greed. 
 His pomp as a gay janizary's — 
 
 He chants a convivial creed.* 
 
 Then sudden, the whistle of Boreas, 
 
 Knife-edged, shrieks a warning of blight. 
 
 And Robin's bravado victorious 
 Is hushed^ — wMe a ribbon of white 
 
 * The robin becomes drunk from eating certain ber- 
 ries, sometimes falling from the tree. In the South, 
 the late china berries intoxicate him. 
 
 129 
 
JUST FOR FUN 
 
 Encroaches, as 'nouncement of dolor 
 
 To riot — a symbol of peace; 
 And wilder the orgies of color 
 
 Flare, death-mad, refusing surcease. 
 
 The ribbon grows wider and tangled, 
 
 Throws whipcords and bow-knots of frost. 
 Till Revelry, hopelessly strangled, 
 
 Lies panting — delirious and lost. 
 At this, ail the vines on the hillside 
 
 Drop every last grape in the hay, 
 While Robin, grown grave on the millside, 
 
 Sings softly a diif erent lay. 
 
 He tightens his vest o'er those berries 
 
 And toasts, with a hypocrite throat, 
 All sea-craft and house-boats and ferries 
 
 Where white-ribbon sails are afloat; 
 For birds aren't so different from people, 
 
 And Robin's a gay politician. 
 The song one pours out from a steeple 
 
 (So much may depend on position) 
 Is not like his perched-on-a-still song. 
 
 In politics, how could it be? 
 We've all heard a peace-and-good-will song 
 
 From candidates up in a tree. 
 130 
 
OCTOBER 
 
 The Autumn god mnks at the bird-song; 
 
 It gives him a chance to brace up ; 
 He calls it "the queerest-e'er-heard" song, 
 
 Yet, listening, he turns down his cup. 
 Remarking, "There's mockery in it!" 
 
 He's foreseen the decline of his day, 
 And it stopped his hiccoughs in a minute — 
 
 They're occasionally cured in this way. 
 
 Human-like, he is dashed with amazement 
 That his reign in one season should run. 
 
 When, out through his westerly casement. 
 He views his broad realm in the sun: 
 
 Sees forests of gold and of amber. 
 
 Sees bushes aflame as on fire, 
 Sees tawny-hued vines as they clamber 
 
 O'er boulder and turret and spire; 
 Sees orchards all red with fruition. 
 
 Sees meadows of yellowing hay. 
 Sees fullness of all rich condition, — 
 
 Sees realization at play. 
 
 And he cries, "Praise ye frosts, I am sober! 
 
 With Revelry joined to the saints, 
 I must tend my own fires-of-October, 
 
 And twist my last tubes of their paints ; 
 9 131 
 
JUST FOR FUN 
 
 Yon mountain, dishevelled and drunken. 
 Serene, with a clove in its throat, 
 
 More low than its valley is sunken — 
 A color-debauch for a coat! 
 
 "Ye gods! Yes, it's great to be sober! 
 
 That mountain I'll merge in the view 
 With purples for royal October — 
 
 I must sober my landscape up, too! 
 Then, slowly, I'll cover each ember 
 
 With ashes of wild-roses gray, 
 E'er wind-blown and weeping November 
 
 Comes splashing my colors away; 
 E'er querulous, weak-kneed November 
 
 Looms, clad in a nimbus of weather. 
 In which, how I'm chilled to remember. 
 
 That he and I pass out together." 
 
 132 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 
 
 If you watch him long enough 
 
 And never bat your eye, 
 The old man in the moon will come 
 
 And turn you to a pie; 
 But when he starts to eat you, 
 
 If you'll &mly hold your breath, 
 He'll choke upon your upper crust 
 
 And cough himself to death. 
 
 I can't exactly vouch for this 
 
 As honest, Bible truth, 
 Though I've often tried to prove it 
 
 In experimental youth; 
 My trouble was I always felt 
 
 Afraid of luney men. 
 And when he'd stir, I'd bat my eye 
 
 And have to start again. 
 
 Still, there's no harm in trying. 
 Though one caution I advise: 
 
 If you should wish to change your mind, 
 Be sure to bat your eyes 
 133 
 
JUST FOR FUN 
 
 Before you're quite turned to a pie 
 
 Without an eye to blink, 
 For then, should you be short of breath- 
 
 I do not like to think! ! ! ! ! 
 
 But, if the worst should threaten 
 
 And he'd get you in his vest, 
 A little swallow on a lark, 
 
 Be brave and do your best; 
 Don't lose your nerve but keep repeating; 
 
 "I am always I, 
 'No matter though I seem to be 
 
 Just middle-man or pie." 
 
 Then, think on Jonah and the whale. 
 
 Your ease is not the first, 
 Keep Jonah's image in your mind 
 
 (This may not be "the worst"). 
 And e'er you know what's doing, 
 
 You'll be equal in renown, 
 Though, as you'll be already up^, 
 
 You'll have to be thrown down. 
 
 And yours the greater honor 
 
 If you ever get your rights, 
 For Jonah sank to depths unknown — 
 
 You will have sealed the heights; 
 134 
 
THE MAN IN THE MOON 
 
 And still one more advantage 
 To your credit there will be. 
 
 His story's pis-ea-to-ri-al — 
 Yours is AS-TRON-0-MY! , 
 
 (1) 
 
 135 
 
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