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SENTIMENTAL AND COMICAL 
 
 POEMS 
 
 B Y 
 
 A 
 JAMES Hf'THOMAS 
 
 ^CSl^ 
 
 NASHVILLE, THiN.: 
 NATIONAL BAPT1«=T PUHL13HING BOARD. 
 
 1913. 
 

 H^^^.-3 
 
 ^7vr 
 
 /f^.r.i An4fi4S6 
 
J. H. THOMAS, 
 Author of Poems. 
 
intents. 
 
 Section I— Sentimental 
 
 Pages j 
 
 PART I— Miscellaneous „ 7—83 \ 
 
 PART II— Love 84-122 \ 
 
 Section II— Comical 
 
 PART I-^Dialectic Verss 122-151 ^ 
 
 PART II- Dialectic Prose 152-171 : 
 
PREFACE 
 
 In giving this little boo.t to the reading public, especially 
 those of my race, I have aimed to enliven those smolder- 
 ing coals of enthusiasm that so conspicuously characterize 
 my race. I have learned that to touch upon the natural 
 characteristics of a race or individual in a way that ap- 
 peals to the inward forces of his nature, therefore putting 
 him to thinking about the existing conditions in and around 
 him, brings about serious thought, action and change on 
 the part of that individual or individuals; hence, I have 
 written verses touching along this particular line. 
 
 I have also contriluted a few verses to LOVE, that 
 never-dying flame, which will no doubt interest the young, 
 the bachelor and the spinster. 
 
 The foremost characteristic about our race is, that Na- 
 ture has taught us to see the "funny" side of everything 
 Sometimes we see that side first. But there is good in 
 laughter and jollification, 'tis by this, if anything, that 
 we have succeeded thus far. The comical selections of 
 this book afford much laughter, which is a true tonic for 
 stupidity, melancholy, and the gloomy periods of life. 
 
 Hoping that you may find consolation in reading this 
 little volume, I am, 
 
 Yourte truly, 
 
 THE AUTHOR. 
 
IN MY THINKING CASTLE. \ 
 
 (ROOM IN WHICH POEMS WERE COMPOSED.) \ 
 
 'T IS in my castle snug and neat 
 
 That thoughts both old and new ; 
 
 Are welcome. These I always greet, \ 
 
 For they to me are true. ■ 
 
 New thoughts the old ones introduce ; : 
 
 Their hands I grasp and shake, 
 I tightly hold and turn not loose. 
 
 To my dull senses wake. j 
 
 Old thoughts I reverence with care, ' ] 
 
 For they have paved the way j 
 
 For new ones that are bright and rare, - 
 
 Which Nature's truths convey. { 
 
 < - i 
 
 'T is in my thinking castle that | 
 
 I with these thougihts converse, j 
 
 We have a pleasant social chat 
 While them with care I nurse. 
 
 Then by God's help I mold new ones, ' ; 
 
 New thoughts formed in my mold. 
 
 Each helpful thought that through me runs I 
 
 At some time will be told. j 
 
 (7) j 
 
POEMS, 
 
 Yea, some day will be told 
 
 In words simple and true ; 
 These worthy gems of faultless g-old 
 
 May serve to strengthen you. 
 
 Great thoughts whose origin is God 
 
 Are reproduced on earth 
 Bj^ thinking men who labor hard 
 
 To give them honest birth. 
 
 Thoughts are conceived in rugged forms, 
 
 Unpolished and disguised, 
 But when refined their beauty charms. 
 
 And how we are surprised ! 
 
 God thought, and from his thought there sprang 
 
 Creations great and small; 
 Earth, moon, sun, stars. His praises sang. 
 
 His wisdom formed them all. 
 
 There is no law to keep mankind 
 
 From thinking, no not one ; 
 No law can govern any mind. 
 
 For this cannot be done. 
 
 This blessed castle, ten by twelve. 
 
 In which I have absorbed 
 Some thoughts that truly made me delve 
 
 Below the surface sod, 
 
POEMS. 
 
 Has been my comfort and retreat, ! 
 
 My solace and my friend ; \ 
 
 In it I take my lonely seat I 
 
 And o'er poetry bend. \ 
 
 Sometimes I chase a fleeting thought 
 
 To realms beyond the skies ; ; 
 
 I see it fleeing till 'tis caught i 
 
 By patience, brains and eyes. 
 
 When it I catch, to it I hold \ 
 
 Till its great power spreads J 
 
 O'er me in sheets of polished go^d, ; 
 
 And its sweet essence sheds. ] 
 
 And when I catch the spirit of J 
 
 The thought that I have chased, i 
 
 I then my energies involve, J 
 
 And let no moments waste. ^ 
 
 A POEM OF RETRIBUTION. 
 
 Have you watched the results of a thrown rubber 
 
 ball. 
 How quickly it rebounds when it strkes a stone 
 
 wall? 
 Just so hard as you throw it, so it will return ; 
 It teaches a lesson that we all should learn. 
 
 So a bad deed when donei with an evil intent, 
 Comes back again to us without our consent. 
 
10 POEMS. 
 
 It comes at a time when we're prosperous and gay, 
 And stops our progress without a delay. 
 
 We hide the bad deeds when we bury them deep, 
 But they rise up again, and right straight at us 
 
 peep; 
 We are fearful, astonished, when these deeds 
 
 condemn 
 Us, by bursting upon us with power and vim. 
 
 We then tell a lie to demolish this plant. 
 And try to destroy it forever, but can't. 
 We sever it 'way to some depth in the ground. 
 But the roots from which it came are solid and 
 sound. 
 
 And when we are dead and in graves are hurled, 
 These deeds will spring upward, and show to the 
 
 world 
 What we did in the dark, and then tried to keep 
 
 hid. 
 But God, in his providence, lifted the lid. 
 
 You may plant your bad deeds in the day or by 
 
 night, 
 And try to conceal them in darkness from light; 
 But as sure as the sun keeps his course to the west, 
 These deeds will confront you and put you to test. 
 
 So let us not sow any acts of discord, 
 
 But when we are tempted converse with the Lord, 
 
POEMS. 11 
 
 Don't rush with a passion and lose self-control, 
 For we in this way may endanger the soul. 
 
 SOMEWHERE. 
 
 Somewhere the world is dark because no brilliant 
 
 rays are shining,. 
 Some dreary land is gloomy because hearts are 
 
 sore and pining; 
 With the dark and gloomy seasons souls are tuned 
 
 in harmony, 
 And the countenance is robed in garments of 
 
 solemnity. 
 
 Still somewhere the sun is sending forth great 
 
 rays of brilliant light 
 Illuminating souls that once were filled with 
 
 dreadful night; 
 And in each chamber of the heart his brilliancy is 
 
 spreading, 
 And golden sheens and glittering beams within 
 
 the soul he's shedding. 
 
 Somewhere on life's tempestuous sea some one 
 
 with awe is crying; 
 Great streams of tears are flowing free from those 
 
 Who're sad and sighing. 
 Like seas whose ruffled bosom^i are inflamed by 
 
 winds intruding, 
 Are some poor souls who're struggling now 
 
 against vile sim's deluding. 
 
12 POEMS, 
 
 And yet, somewhere the seas are calm o'er which 
 
 some ship is sailing; 
 Some bosom's resting peacefully, no sighing 
 
 neither wailing. 
 Nor tortured hearts nor gushing tears to break 
 
 the soothing calmness; 
 No dashing waves nor swelling tides ; the winds 
 
 are still and harmless. 
 
 Somewhere some sin is being concealed in some 
 heart for safe keeping, 
 
 But at some time and at some place this sin 
 will bring forth weeping. 
 
 Some mind is drifting far away to regions of dis- 
 traction. 
 
 By trying to explore that realm which some call 
 satisfaction. 
 
 Still somewhere there're hearts divine that do 
 
 not think of pining — 
 Great hearts that have their trust in God and not 
 
 always a'whining 
 Because their skies seem always darkened by 
 
 black clouds distressful; 
 They strive to keep the clouds away until they are 
 
 successful. 
 
 DESTINY. 
 
 There's no escaping Destiny, 
 No matter how we plan. 
 
POEMS, 13 
 
 We ean't unfold God's purposes — 
 They save too firm for man. 
 
 Our destiny was fixed before 
 
 Our birth into the world ; 
 We did not fix it when we came, 
 
 Nor can it be unfurled. 
 
 The road you traveled to success, 
 Was strange to you, you know ; 
 
 You never thought when you began. 
 That you would this way go. 
 
 Life's path was fashioned by no man. 
 
 Nor destined by his wit ; 
 'Twas surveyed by that Unseen Eye, 
 
 And that we must admit. 
 
 The things which you met in the way, 
 Perhaps you tried to shun, 
 
 And yet you say, "// I'd done thus," 
 And "// I had not done." 
 
 But "//" is never in the way 
 
 When Destiny is planned 
 By God himself, who does not change 
 
 The plan he's made to stand. 
 
 Don't worry about your destiny, 
 But try to do your best, 
 
14 POEMS. 
 
 To meet lifers problems with a smile, 
 And give your soul a rest. 
 
 TEMPTATIONS. 
 
 We often make our temptations, 
 
 And are overcome by lust. 
 When we heed the inclinations 
 
 That make us do things unjust. 
 
 We are subject to dejections, 
 
 At our best we cannot boast; 
 We should all welcome corrections. 
 
 And should not wait to be forced. 
 
 We are told by our own conscience 
 To do right, instead of wrong; 
 
 What we crave is simply nonsense, 
 Things that do not please us long. 
 
 We conceive the sins that hurt us, 
 Which we nourish by our will ; 
 
 But ere long these sins will girt us 
 So we can't our purpose fill. 
 
 Things we welcome in our presence 
 Are the things we love the best; 
 
 But sometimes we get the essence 
 
 From these things, which gives unrest. 
 
POEMS. 15 
 
 Ask not God to move temptations, i 
 
 T is a silly thing to do. ; 
 
 Some you brought by inclinations, \ 
 
 So the move is up to you. \ 
 
 HABIT. 
 
 Habit is like a parasite ; ; 
 
 It saps the strength away ] 
 
 From those who have become its slave, | 
 
 And serve it day by day. 
 
 A contagion of the worst kind, ; 
 
 A dreadful, poisonous germ, j 
 With deathlike grip it takes a hold, 
 
 To serve a life-long term. j 
 
 \ 
 
 It gathers strength at our expense, \ 
 
 It's bills we have to pay, j 
 Till our weak frame, destroyed and wrecked, 
 
 Lies breathless in the clay. 
 
 Habit will make you pay a price 
 
 Astonishingly high, 
 With interest at a per c^nt 
 
 That doubles, by and by. 
 
 Do not in you a habit form 
 Because it seems to please ; 
 
 For ere long you will be debased 
 By it, and long for ease. 
 
16 POEMS. 
 
 Just place this sign upon your mind 
 
 **No admission to you, 
 Bad Habit, for your way is dark, 
 
 And painful, and untrue.'' 
 
 Then keep the door closed against it, 
 
 Don't listen to its plea, 
 And if you will not to it heed, 
 
 You'll enjoy liberty. 
 
 PATHOS. 
 
 We sometimes have a feeling strange 
 
 Hurled into our souls. 
 That makes us tremble dreadfully, 
 
 As when a church bell tolls. 
 
 It wrings the tears from our eyes. 
 
 And sighs of doleful sound 
 Escape, that we cannot control. 
 
 Matters not who's around. 
 
 In some it is expressed in loud 
 
 And sympathetic cries; 
 Others are stilled by its approach, 
 
 But deep in them it lies. 
 
 But ah ! that silent one who sighs 
 Within when troubles come. 
 
 Is deepest touched, though not expressed 
 In words as loud as some. 
 
POEMS. IT 
 
 Pathetic strokes mellow the heart 
 
 For charitable deeds; 
 That soul stirred by pathos, and love 
 
 Of Christian work, succeeds. 
 
 Ring out ! chimes of saintly souls, 
 
 Ring out in notes divine. 
 In peals of great supernal tones 
 
 That man cannot define. 
 
 The soul doth overflow with love 
 When Pathos reigns supreme, 
 
 Close by his throne our blessings come, 
 From God's life-giving stream. 
 
 THE AIR CASTLE. \ 
 
 In youth we build air-castles high, j 
 
 Most beautiful and fine; 1 
 
 We build a glowing edifice j 
 
 That almost looks divine. ] 
 
 Its domes and towers reach the skies, j 
 
 With great columns and beams, ^ 
 And arched windows of brilliant hue 
 
 Reflecting sunset gleams. ' 
 
 We walk between its stately walls, i 
 
 And climb its marble stairs; ; 
 
 Into its hig^h towers we soar ; 
 
 Away from worldly cares. j 
 
 Bedecked in our matchless pearls, '■ 
 
18 POEMS. 
 
 Clotlied in our robes of white, 
 We breathe heaven's refreshing air 
 With joy and great delight. 
 
 How securely we fix ourselves 
 
 In our air-castles high ; 
 We care not how the world moves on, 
 
 Nor how the needy cry ; 
 Our lofty minds are high above 
 
 The famished and the poor, 
 Nor care we for the feeble knock.^ 
 
 For mercy at our door. 
 
 But ah! a shock comes from below ^ 
 
 "What can it be?" we say; 
 That vain foundation was unsafe, 
 
 And now it's giving way. 
 Lock at that fair mansion you built, 
 
 Now leans its stately form! 
 Oh see it sinking, sinking down 
 
 Before a trying storm! 
 
 So with our reveries and dreams: 
 
 With selfishness we view 
 Our future life all full of blooms, 
 
 Sweet flow^ers, fresh and pure. 
 Rut when we think to gather up 
 
 Those flowers sweet and fine, 
 They quickly vanish from our sight, 
 
 And then we pine and pine. 
 
POEMS. ' 19 
 
 THE POWER OF SONG. 
 
 (Delivered at a recital of Mme. Anita Brown.) 
 
 Ah, what is more soothing to an impatient ear 
 Than a song sweetly chanted by a lady dear ! 
 It lifts one from earth to that high Realm above, 
 Where song is- the sw^eetest expression of love. 
 
 It thrills every fibre in a weary soul, 
 
 E'en the minds of the stupid and slothful will 
 
 stroll 
 With the singers, 'midst the far constellations cf 
 
 stars, 
 And the great solar system with Venus and Mars. 
 
 It melts the cold heart of the desperate one 
 
 Like the heat does the snow from the hot brilliant 
 
 sun. 
 It gives one a. longing for song and for rhyme, 
 And makes him feel noble, blissful and sublime. 
 
 And if in some forest a woman should sing, 
 The hills at a distance would make the song ring 
 Through the meadows and valleys, with echoes 
 
 of joy; 
 The smoothness of rhythm they would not destroy. 
 
 Or if on the top of some mountain she stood, 
 A'singing with rapture, she'd win you, she would. 
 Like manna from heaven her voice would descend. 
 
20 POEMS. 
 
 And with every heart her sweet music would 
 blend. 
 
 Or if in that bottomless abyss she'd sing, 
 
 Her voice like a new fount of water would sprin- 
 
 From that fathomless pit with a bewitching 
 
 sound, . 
 
 And baptize her hearers with music profound. 
 
 Or if she should visit the stars in the sky, 
 No doubt that those heavenly bodies would shy 
 When she made her obeisance, and began to smg, 
 Chanting notes that would make heaven ring. 
 
 If in the dark regions with demons below, 
 
 She were doomed with the outcasts to torture and 
 
 woe, 
 Their eternal punishments they would forget 
 When she would burst forth singing her sacred 
 
 sonnet. 
 
 They tell me that angels will keep silent when 
 The great host of Christians shall be ushered m 
 The portal of glory with new songs of prai.se, 
 And great shouts of triumph and music they raise. 
 
 The great power of song was displayed upon earth 
 By angels who sang, "Peace, good-will," with 
 
 great mirth. . 
 
 Of the wonderful gift to the world they did smg. 
 And their loud "Hosanna!" of praises did ring. 
 
POEMS, 21 
 
 But hush, hush, listen! ye women and men; 
 You children keep quiet! and don't move a chin, 
 I hear a sweet voice, and it's one of renown ! 
 Yes, come in! It's Mme. Patti Brown. 
 
 UP THE ROAD. 
 
 It seems that men are fully bent 
 
 On violence and crime; 
 They care not how their lives are spent, 
 
 Nor how they waste the time. 
 They're traveling at a dreadful speed. 
 
 Which thej^ cannot afford, 
 And hiding mistakes to succeed 
 
 Which'll meet them up the road. 
 
 Humanity's fast train of sin 
 
 Will soon be wrecked by Time; 
 'Tis loaded with distrustful men 
 
 Who're wasting 'v^^ay their prime. 
 So crowded is this train of sin. 
 
 So very great its load, 
 That men are fighting their way in 
 
 To meet Death up the road. 
 
 There're men of fortune on this train ; 
 
 Some of worldly renown, 
 Who pile up wealth by greedy gain ; 
 
 Upon which God does frown. 
 As sure as Time and Tide move on, 
 
 And God keeps his abode, 
 
22 
 
 POEMS. 
 
 Ill-gotten wealth will make them groan 
 When they're wrecked up the road. 
 
 There are peacebreakers on this train, ^ 
 
 Some "high-toned'' and refined, 
 Who'll seek God's mercy, but in vain ; 
 
 His hottest wrath they'll find. 
 They're gliding smoothly now, no doubt, 
 
 And with their conscience bored; 
 Their awful deeds will be found out 
 
 When they're wrecked up the road. 
 
 Those little things kept in your heart 
 
 Are ''no harm sins," you say; 
 You hide them and a mountain start 
 
 That will show up some day. 
 These little sins that you have done 
 
 Will some day make a load 
 That you will try your best to shun, 
 
 Or deny, up the road. 
 
 It is in youth when sinful vice 
 
 Saps one's manhood away; 
 By simple ways does it entice 
 
 When given it's full sway. 
 Open your eyes, young man and maid. 
 
 To yield you can't afford ; 
 This sinful vice will make a raid 
 
 Upon you up the road. 
 
 How sad and painful is old age. 
 What awful wrecks we see 
 
POEMS. 2B 
 
 Performing daily on life's stage. 
 
 All bent in misery ! 
 Vitality all sapped away, 
 
 God's vengeance on them poured, 
 For youthful mistakes they must pay 
 
 In sorrow up the road. 
 
 Some hidden deeds that we have done 
 
 In bygone days of old 
 Will face us, and we cannot shun 
 
 The punishment they hold. 
 We pray, but God does not forget 
 
 Those habits which we've sowed ; 
 So it's no use to whine and fret, 
 
 We'll meet them up the road. 
 
 'Tass on," we say, ''tormenting deed; 
 
 I thought that thou wert hid. 
 How in the world can I succeed 
 
 When my peace thou forbid?'' 
 But ah! that deed will not obe\ 
 
 U*itil revenge is poured 
 Upon us. 'T is our well-earned pa\ 
 
 Which we get up the road. 
 
 ''0 wretched flesh! lustful heart! 
 
 misery and woe ! 
 For heaven's sake will you depart ! 
 
 Why do you torture so?" 
 But flesh and heart are not to blame 
 
 For these vile seed you've sowed ; 
 
24 POEMS. 
 
 The fruits of which will have a claim 
 Upon you up the road. 
 
 LIE AND TRUTH. 
 
 ''Good morning, Lie/' said Truth one day; 
 ''Where are you going up this way?" 
 Said Lie, "I'm going to dress like you, 
 i or something that I have in view." 
 
 "-aid Truth, "My garment's white and pure, 
 I know they'll not look well on you." 
 baid Lie, "I'll paint my face like yours. 
 The other parts I'll not expose." 
 
 Said Truth, "You cannot look like me, 
 /ou'll be condemned, where'er you be." 
 "I'll do m_y best," said Lie to Truth, 
 "To look like you and fool some youth." 
 
 Said Truth, "The parents train the youth 
 oo when they 're grown, they know I'm Truth. 
 Said Lie, "Fll grow as strong as they. 
 And entice them to go my way." 
 
 "Well, Lie," said Truth, "what would you do 
 If I'd wash all the paint off you?" 
 Said Lie, "I'd paint my face again; 
 They'd think that you and I are kin." 
 
 Said Truth, "This would be wrong of you. 
 To deceive them who would be true." 
 
POEMS. 25 
 
 Said Lie, 'They always make their choice; 
 
 When they choose me I do rejoice." \ 
 
 *The tongue that tells a lie," said Truth, 
 
 ''Is building up the devil's booth." i 
 
 "The man who owns the tongue," said Lie, 
 
 ".Gets wealth and honor by and by." \ 
 
 Said Truth, "His wealth can't save his soul. j 
 
 Nor make his sinful body whole." \ 
 
 "Ah well," said Lie, "You cannot see ] 
 
 The side of it that interests me." ! 
 
 ! 
 
 So Lie and Truth together went ; i 
 
 On different missions they were sent. i 
 
 One went to break the Lord's command, ! 
 The other took a moral stand. 
 
 TIME'S WEAPON. 
 
 Time, the champion of the world. 
 By many a hard-fought battle. 
 
 Into eternity has hurled 
 
 The rich man and the chattel. 
 
 Time has a weapon sharp and keen, 
 
 Of the very best metal ; 
 There was no combat ever seen, 
 
 But what brave Time did settle. 
 
26 POEMS, 
 
 Never too fast, never too slow, 
 
 Never passes decisions 
 Until his time to strike the blow 
 
 That settles all divisions. 
 
 The dreadful weapon used by Time 
 
 Is death! uncompromising, 
 impartial, e'en vv^ith men sublime ; 
 
 And many times surprising. 
 
 The slightest touch of death's keen point, 
 The weapon which Time uses, 
 
 Makes cold the flesh, the bone and joint. 
 Without e'en making bruises. 
 
 Some make brave attempts to avoid 
 Time's matchless, shim.mering steel, 
 
 But get their well-fixed plans destroyed. 
 Though they to God appea.. 
 
 But Time laughs at his combatants, 
 
 A scornful laugh laughs he; 
 He does not care for protestants 
 
 Nor a pathetic plea. 
 
 ''0 Time, Time! thy weapon stay; 
 
 hold it in suspension. 
 And spare my life for one more day, 
 
 And you'll get my attention." « ] 
 
 T is true that Time's component parts, \ 
 
 Hours, minute and second, ] 
 
POEMS. 27 
 
 All should be used by faithful hearts, 
 For their value can't be reckoned. 
 
 Time has given to everything, 
 
 Two seasons well defined. 
 One to prepare, well known as spring, 
 
 The next, to reap and bind. 
 
 Time ! how matchless is thy steel. 
 How keen thy awful blade ! 
 
 The brightness of it makes men feel 
 So helpless and afraid. 
 
 Ah, what a record thou hast made 
 
 In earth and sea and sky ; 
 Every creature, by thy blade 
 
 Must some day breathless lie. 
 
 MY REQUEST. 
 
 Don't stand around me when I'm dead, 
 
 With a deceitful tear, 
 Nor a sad look, and hung down head, 
 
 An angel to appear. 
 
 But come around me w^hile I live. 
 
 And when I am distressed. 
 Then comfort me with what I need 
 
 For this is my request. 
 
 Don't pile up flowers on my grave 
 When I am dead and gone ; 
 
28 POEMS. 
 
 But all this time and money save 
 To help the gospel on. 
 
 But if some kind act you would show 
 
 To me while I'm alive, 
 Now your sweet flowers you may throw, 
 
 To my spirit revive. 
 
 Yes, give them now, oh give them now, 
 When I deserve them most; 
 
 YeS; give them now, before I join 
 That great angelic host. 
 
 Don't wait until Fm in my grave 
 
 To sum up my mistakes, 
 Beoause when told of yours, you rave 
 
 And gr^at confusion make. 
 
 But tell m.e of mine while I live. 
 And watch yourself and yours, 
 
 Before' to me your advice give, 
 And my mistakes expose. 
 
 Oh don't expose, do not expose, 
 
 Brother, do not expose. 
 Before to me your advice give, 
 
 Correct yourself and yours. 
 
 You have your faults and I have mine ; 
 
 They may not be the same. 
 To expose mine and cover thine 
 
 Gives you no better name. 
 
POEMS, 29 
 
 Say what you will and have no fear ; 
 
 Don't wait till I am gone ; 
 If it will help me, let me hear — 
 
 To hold it back is wrong. 
 
 SPUING GREETING. 
 
 Lo! the winter now is past; 
 Spring comes riding in at last, 
 With her healthful, balmy breeze, 
 Greeting birds and budding trees. 
 
 List! I hear her gay *^Ha! ha!" 
 Ringing through the meadows far, 
 Getting everything in tune. 
 Budding trees for shade in June. 
 
 She has tuned the atmosphere 
 With her season of the year; 
 Light and gracefully she steps. 
 Winning everything she helps. 
 
 Winter tried to keep her 'way. 
 Till the near approach of May; 
 But the sun's hot rays forbade — 
 And have many glad hearts made. 
 
 E'en the ground-hog has come out 
 Of his burrow wath a shout, 
 For his shadow failed to show, 
 As it did six weeks ago. 
 
30 POEMS. 
 
 Gentle Spring, why lingered thou ? 
 Thou delayed the farmers' plow ; 
 'T is upon thee we depend 
 For a happy harvest end. 
 
 Breathe thou now upon the earth, 
 And she will give gentle birth 
 To more smiling buds and flowers, 
 Making glad these hearts of ours. 
 
 THE FLESH AND SOUL'S CONTROVERSY. 
 
 What worries thee, thou troubled soul, 
 
 Why cryest thou so loud? 
 Knowest thou not there lies thy goal 
 
 Within the darkest cloud? 
 
 " Tis not the goal within the cloud 
 That makes- my troubles cease. 
 
 Though thoughts of it do make me proud — 
 But thou let me have peace." 
 
 Do not the worldly things suffice, 
 
 Of mirth and joy and peace? 
 Is not the earth a paradise, 
 
 Where pleasures never cease ? 
 
 Vast treasures have I stored away. 
 
 That I might use at will ; 
 They'll serve thee well a rainy day. 
 
 Then, soul, wilt thou be still ? 
 
POEMS. n 
 
 "No, when the days are clear and bright, 
 
 And lit by sunny rays. 
 If thou with sin wilt still unite, 
 
 To me 't is rainy days." 
 
 In spacious halls I skip and dance. 
 
 And laugh with merry glee ; 
 I try your pleasure to enhance, 
 
 But thou still torture me. 
 
 "As oil and water can't be mixed, 
 
 So worldliness with me 
 Cannot unite, for I am fixed 
 
 As firm as I can be. 
 
 "Do let me rule, flesh of man, 
 With temperance for a guide ; 
 
 You'll not regret that you began 
 A life that gave you pride." 
 
 O pleading Soul ! I yield to thee, 
 
 ril fulfill thy request ; 
 For by your words, I plainly see 
 
 That truly you know best. 
 
 WHEN I WAS YOUNG. 
 
 When I was young, and in my prime. 
 With books to read, and ample time, __ 
 'T was pleasure then and nothing more 
 That I lived for in days of yore. 
 
32 POEMS. 
 
 When I was young and had my strength, - 
 
 For pleasure I would go full length, j 
 
 And let the precious moments fly, \ 
 
 And opportunities pass by. '\ 
 
 When I was young, my energy ^ 
 
 Was wasted, 'way unsparingly i 
 
 With comrades of the meanest sort. \ 
 I gave not time a single thought. 
 
 When I was young, and chances good, \ 
 
 I failed to use them as I should ; 1 
 I loved strong drink and poker games. 
 
 And took delight in wrecking names. \ 
 
 When I was young, my conscience said: 
 "Young man, do cultivate the head, : 
 
 And purify the heart and thought;" 1 
 
 But I against that advice fought. 
 
 When I was young my pains were few ; 1 
 
 What trouble was I hardly knew. \ 
 
 I had a strong and healthy frame. 
 
 But I was wild and hard to tame. i 
 
 \ 
 
 Now I am old, and time has fled, I 
 
 No books to read, nor decent bed ; ] 
 
 My thoughts good thinkers all condemn, ' 
 
 My best days gone, and chances slim. \ 
 
 Now I am old, no progress made, 
 My friends no more can I persuade 
 
POEMS. 33 
 
 To comfort me with word or deed, 
 Nor give me anything I need. 
 
 Now I am old, my way is hard ; 
 
 The season's past and I am barred. j 
 
 If I could my past life recall, ': 
 
 To help the world, I'd give it all. j 
 
 Young man, from this a lesson take. 
 And while you 're young, keep wide awake. 
 I once was youthful, strong and bold, 
 But now I'm old, now I am old. 
 
 FASHION AGAINST COMFORT. 
 
 Ho, Comfort ! whaf^s thy mission here, 
 
 What service canst thou do? 
 Since things have changed from old to new, 
 
 Which now are against you ? 
 
 **I serve the wise and thoughtful class 
 
 Of people, who will heed 
 The timely advice that I give 
 
 In order to succeed." 
 
 Pshaw, Comfort, people laugh at thee 
 
 In these fanciful days ; 
 Thy appearance and awkwardness 
 
 Are spurned in many ways. 
 
 'The health and ease that I afford, 
 All people would enjoy; 
 
34 POEMS. 
 
 But thou with glaring temptations 
 Destructive means employ." 
 
 Then why do they prefer my way 
 
 To yours of peace and rest? I 
 
 If I am a destructive force \ 
 
 Why not 'gainst me protest? 1 
 
 ' T]i. .u art a force stronger than they, j 
 
 So powerful and strong, | 
 
 That thou canst change appearances \ 
 
 And lead the masses wrong." 1 
 
 In the beginning was it so — \ 
 
 Did I then have the power | 
 
 That I have now with modem thought, \ 
 
 That's called "up to the hour?" \ 
 
 ''Thou wert not known to mankind then, | 
 
 Then men grew large and strong ; \ 
 
 They then obeyed the laws of health, j 
 
 And lived healthy and long. -^ 
 
 ''As soon as thou began to rise I 
 
 With thy bewitching traits, j 
 
 Thou didst disguise that which was pure 1 
 
 And molded 'fashion plates.' I 
 
 "Thou handicap the worldly minds i 
 
 With sights that do allure ■ 
 
 The appetites for showy things \ 
 
 Which will not long endure. \ 
 
POEMS. 35 
 
 'Thou hast brought on mankind disgrace 
 
 By making virtue cheap ; 
 The strong desire for costly garb 
 
 Are mistakes which they'll reap." 
 
 Ah, Comfort, dost thou hate to see 
 
 Nature aided this way, 
 Is not the world more beautiful 
 
 And men more blithe and gay ? 
 
 "The world is not as beautiful 
 As t'was in olden times, 
 
 For then nature had its own way 
 Men died not in their prime. 
 
 ''So let us close the argument. 
 
 Old Father Time will tell 
 Which of us two will win at last. 
 
 For he surely judges well.'' 
 
 WE'RE COMING UP. 
 
 Two hundred forty years or more 
 
 Held us in slavery bound ; 
 Just chattels, so to speak, were we. 
 
 Beaten and cuffed around. 
 Our sympathizers held their peace, 
 
 And failed to interrupt; 
 But God did not forget that we 
 
 Were down, but would come up. 
 
i 
 
 36 POEMS. ; 
 
 Our parents groaned beneath the lash ; \ 
 
 Yet tliey were true and tried. | 
 
 They had no one to pity them, \ 
 
 But knew God would provide. i. 
 
 They suffered untold misery, 1 
 
 Drank of that bitter cup. ■ 
 
 They sulfened, but good seeds were sown ; 
 
 In men who're coming up. ^ 
 
 is 
 
 Punished and driven to hard tasks, i 
 
 Like dumb-brutes from the stalls ; -; 
 
 Tho' weak and feeble some would be, \ 
 
 They answered to the calls. \ 
 But God, who watches everything. 
 
 Both holy and corrupt, \ 
 
 Saw in His plan a mighty race . 
 
 Kept down, but would come up. - i 
 
 To worship God, they slipped away, [ 
 
 To some quiet praying ground, 
 
 And sung, and prayed with heartfelt love, ] 
 
 While langels hovered 'round. i 
 They list, but could not understand, 
 
 Nor that sweet essence sup ; j 
 
 For by those prayers, a suppressed race j 
 
 Kept down, would be raised up. \ 
 
 All heaven would be silent now, i 
 
 To listen to a prayer \ 
 
 Burst forth from heart sincere and true, \ 
 
 But now, such hearts are rare. \ 
 
 Two centuries or more they prayed, I 
 
POEMS. 37 
 
 And partook of that cup 
 Whose contents were a dreadful lash 
 To stop our coming up. 
 
 Oh ! think of what we undergo 
 
 In these enlightened times; 
 We're punished by unlawful iT^eans 
 
 To recompense for crimes. 
 The innocent are driven from 
 
 Their comforts and their homes, 
 To satisfy an angry mob, 
 
 That through our districts roams. 
 
 Does history repeat itself? 
 
 Ye'9, in this present day ; 
 The Israelites were burdened too, 
 
 Just in the selfsame way. 
 Egyptians' cruel yokes they wore 
 
 Through many weary years, 
 But God had planned to set them free 
 
 Of burdens and of tears. 
 
 Let's not give over to despair, 
 
 Ye race despised and spurned ; 
 God gives to every race a chance, 
 
 E'en though abused and shunned. 
 Though some may never see that day. 
 
 Nor of its sweetness sup. 
 But they should pray continually 
 
 That others may come up. 
 
38 POEMS. 
 
 DEATH A DREAM. 
 
 Only a dream, a pleasant dream, ; 
 
 Is Death to God's election — ' 
 
 A careful usher o'er the stream I 
 
 Bridged by hope's own direction. i 
 
 i 
 
 A balm that soothes departing souls 
 
 Called home by the Infinite; 
 
 A hand that opens the spiritual realm, 1 
 
 And ushers the soul in it. i 
 
 dreadful Death, God's instrument, ■ 
 
 Umpartial in thy dealings; j 
 
 It matters not how calm thou be, \ 
 
 Thou bringest sad, sad feelings. ] 
 
 A saint that death doth rock to sleep l 
 
 Shows happiness by smiling; 1 
 
 The soul is wafted to it-s God ] 
 
 Where there is no defiling. l 
 
 I 
 
 That rare expression on the face I 
 
 Of the soul that is dreaming i 
 
 Is God's great mercy full and free, j 
 
 So soothing and redeeming. \ 
 
 When will the soul 'wake from its sleep, \ 
 
 And tell that endless story? ] 
 
 Or where are words that can express l 
 
 The visions of God's glory? i 
 
POEMS. 39 
 
 Dream on, soul, and take thy rest 
 In that fair land of promise ; 
 
 We can't disturb thee by our wails. 
 While in that land of bliss. 
 
 Thy empty "soul case" shall decay, 
 And mingle with the dust; 
 
 But thou shalt ever take thy rest 
 In heaven with the just. 
 
 Wake not, wake not, sainted soul ! 
 
 But dream of things in heaven ; 
 Dream not of us, for we must go 
 
 When God's orders are given. 
 
 Death is a dream that will come true ; 
 
 Tis only told in glory; 
 The dreamer ne'er returns to earth 
 
 To tell the matchless story. 
 
 THE EFFECT OF MUSIC. 
 
 Hark ! my soul, the music in thee 
 Turns my gloominess to bliss; 
 
 tell me who could dislike it 
 And its blessed comforts miss? 
 
 In the abyss of nature 
 
 There are sweet musical chords, 
 Harmonizing words and rhythm 
 
 Making notes that get applauds. 
 
40 . POEMS. 
 
 When the pianists touch lightly 
 The keys of the instrument, 
 
 How souls catch the inspiration 
 That with pleasantness is sent. 
 
 Yea, ail music gives me comfort, 
 From a Jew's harp to a band ; 
 
 Each one has a place in nature 
 That we do not understand. 
 
 Welcome to my longing nature, 
 thou music rare and grand ! 
 
 Vv^elcome ^hen I'm melancholy — 
 Thou makest my soul expand. 
 
 Before the day begins its dawning. 
 When the world is calm and still, 
 
 And the orchestra comes playing — • 
 How our souls with rapture fill! 
 
 When we wake and heiar the music 
 Flowing into our bedrooms, 
 
 Can we then express our feelings? 
 Does it not drive 'way the gloom? 
 
 When we sometimes feel forsaken 
 By our near and distant friends, 
 
 Don't we find solace in music 
 As it with our natures blends? 
 
 If there were no love for music 
 In the world, what would it be? 
 
POEMS, 41 
 
 Souls of men would be like demons 
 Caring naught for harmony. 
 
 Instruments of all descriptions 
 Has the Lord created here; 
 
 Made he them for man's own comfort, 
 And his weary soul to cheer. 
 
 How the strains of music waft us 
 To delightful realms somewhere 
 
 High above earth's toils and worries, 
 On the matchless wings of air. 
 
 There is music in each atom, 
 
 And in ev'ry molecule; 
 It was God who planned and fixed it 
 
 By one great established rule. 
 
 Tap a drum or blow a comet 
 
 On a gloomy battle-field; 
 Men will rise up with new vigor, 
 
 And will not to their foes yield. 
 
 Let soft strains of music enter 
 
 Into a dying man's room ; 
 It will stir his soul with rapture. 
 
 And will death's dark way illume. 
 
 Welcome to my soul, music! 
 
 May thy sweetness it absorb. 
 And within my bosom linger 
 
 While robed in thy holy garb. 
 
42 POEMS. 
 
 Welcome to our homes, Music, 
 Drive away gloom and despair; 
 
 Do not hesitate to enter, 
 
 Bring delight and comfort there. 
 
 Melt away like snow, Music, 
 Into our warm hearts dissolve 
 
 While we feast upon they essence 
 Which our longing souls involve. 
 
 Eock me now, sacred Music, 
 While I into dreamland go, 
 
 And my rest will be so peaceful 
 That I'll want to 'wake no more. 
 
 SUPPRESSED SOUL. 
 
 The strong pulsations of the heart, 
 
 And sad expressions of the face, 
 Tell of a pleading, struggling soul. 
 
 Repelling all that's low and base. 
 
 'Tis with the flesh that it contends. 
 The sinful house in which it dwells — 
 
 They don't agree, and never will. 
 For when one acts, the other tells. 
 
 The soul cries out in agony; 
 
 The face shows symptoms of its cries. 
 For tearful eyes and pallid cheeks 
 
 Are signs that trouble inward lies. 
 
POEMS. 43 
 
 Subdue the flesh to ease the soul; 
 
 Give heed to right and shun the wrong; \ 
 
 Suppress low passions of the flesh ; \ 
 
 Then will the soul grow firm and strong. ] 
 
 The flesh returns to dust again; 
 
 The greedy worms which it creates 
 Are like the sins that once it .served; 
 
 Devours and never hesitates. 
 
 The soul will live for evermore; 
 
 For when it from this body goes, 
 It takes a peaceful flight to God, 
 
 Away from fleshly lust and woes. 
 
 STRIKE NOT BACK AGAIN. 
 
 We are very often treated 
 
 With contempt and scorn; 
 But if right, we're not defeated, 
 
 Though much must be borne. 
 When mistreated by the world, 
 
 And tempted to sin; 
 A¥hen upon us wrong is hurled, 
 
 Strike not back ag^ain. 
 
 Keep on standing, keep on standing, 
 
 Firmly, true and strong; 
 Keep on standing, and demanding 
 
 Right instead of wrong. 
 Men will strike to get up a contest, 
 
 But you will be sure to win. 
 
44 POEMS, \ 
 
 ^ _^ ^ ■ I 
 
 If for right you will stand in the conquest, j 
 
 And istrike not back again. i 
 
 Godliness has won the greatest 
 
 Battles of the world. 
 Christian men must stand the tempest, 
 
 With their flags unfurled ; 
 When the world strikes you with vigor. 
 
 Through her worldly men. 
 Let us stand with godly rigor. 
 
 But strike not back again. 
 
 Learn a lesson from the Savior, 
 
 Who stood buffs and scorns. 
 And accused of misbehavior, 
 
 Wore a crown of thorns. 
 Though they cursed Him, though they struck Him, 
 
 But the world to win, 
 He praj^ed for them, never hurt them; 
 
 Struck He not back again. 
 
 Yes, the world hates Christian workers; 
 
 Against Christ it stands. 
 And with hypocrites and shirkers, 
 
 Forms the striking bands. 
 And they strike with aims to scatter 
 
 All the godly men. 
 Let them strike, it does not matter, 
 
 Strike not back again. 
 
POEMS. 45 
 
 THE ORIGIN OF THANKSGIVING. 
 
 This day which we now celebrate, 
 We know, did not originate 
 In these gay times; for pleasures hold 
 The highest place with young and old. 
 
 Nor in the nineteenth century, 
 When the whole world progressively 
 Moved on, and new inventions made. 
 For which men have been duly paid. 
 
 When success to the Pilgrims came, 
 They solemnized this day and name 
 By thanking God for blessings past, 
 And praying him that they might last. 
 
 They left their homes across the sea. 
 And came here, where they could be free 
 To serve the Lord in their own way ; 
 They would not England's laws obey. 
 
 In sixteen hundred twenty-one, 
 After much needed work was done, 
 Realizing the progress made. 
 They met together, sang and prayed. 
 
 'T was after the harvest had past ; 
 That these good folks planned a repast. 
 They did not mourn, nor were they sad. 
 But they were happy, gay and glad. 
 
46 POEMS, 
 
 They went to church and sang and prayed, 
 And ther^ to God their homage paid; 
 They laughed and feasted all day long, 
 And sang a new thanksgiving song. 
 
 Nor were they selfish with their joys, 
 And they made not deceitful noise, 
 But welcomed Indians to their feast, 
 From the greatest to the least. 
 
 From this let us a lesson take, 
 
 And do not our God forsake; 
 
 But when Thanksgiving comes around, 
 
 Let's worship Him with joyful sound. 
 
 Thanksgiving comes, Thanksgiving goes, 
 Who'll see the next? Nobody knows. 
 But let us all thank God that we 
 Are living now, and this one see. 
 
 Thank God from whom all blessings flow, 
 Thank Him, all creatures here below ; 
 Thank Him above, ye heavenly host ; 
 Thank Father, Son and Holy Ghost. 
 
 GEORGE WASHINGTON, THE SYNONYM 
 OF PATRIOTISM. 
 
 George Washington, the synonym 
 Of truth, of bravery and of vim ; 
 One hundred eighty years ago 
 Was born, the greatest man of yore. 
 
POEMS. 47 
 
 In ''Old Virginia" he was bom ; 
 A noble spirit in him shone, 
 As bright as any brilliant sun, 
 Spreading his beams on every one. 
 
 'T was in a large, old-fashioned frame 
 In which was bom this man of fame; 
 All filled with patriotic zeal, 
 He gave his country service real. 
 
 His patriotism he first proved 
 To his sad mother, who was moved 
 When hearing that he longed to be 
 A midshipman out at sea. 
 
 Her countenance was dark and sad; 
 It pained her heart to see the lad 
 So eager, fearless, and so brave 
 To no doubt make the sea his grave. 
 
 Heart filled with sympathetic love 
 Which has its source in heaven above, 
 He proved his patriotism true. 
 Saying to her, "I'll not leave you." 
 
 His noble spirit burned within; 
 Fired with ambition to begin 
 A noble work which God ordained; 
 He started out and heights attained. 
 
 A skillful surveyor was he, 
 Just as alert as he could be. 
 
48 POEMS, 
 
 O'er mountains high and valleys low | 
 
 He made his way, and hardships bore. ] 
 
 1 
 A soldier bold, a isoldier brave, ; 
 
 Undaunted, fearless to his grave, j 
 
 He stood not shivering with fear, \ 
 
 But fought his way, though dark and drear. | 
 
 j 
 
 a 
 
 For seven years, he stood unswerved, i 
 
 Never lost hope, was ne'er unnerved, ] 
 
 But kept his eyes upon the goal i 
 
 For which he strove with heart and soul. j 
 
 Oh, what a lesson we should glean 
 From this great man, whose life was clean. 
 To-night we celebrate his birth 
 With flags, colonial garbs and mirth. 
 
 Patriotism begun lat home. 
 
 And well established in hearts warm, 
 
 Inspires the soul and helps defend 
 
 The fireside, church, and state and friend. 
 
 APOSTROPHE TO BAD PASSION. 
 
 Farewell, Bad Passion, get you hence, 
 With you I'll use my common sense, 
 For you don't mean to treat me right; 
 Your way is just as dark as night. 
 
 To me I thought you very dear. 
 
 But found your way so dark and drear 
 
POEMS, 49 
 
 That when I thought Fd reached my goal, 
 You, sinful Passion, pained my soul. 
 
 What held you tightly in your palm 
 While walking with me arm in arm? 
 'T was something with destructive power 
 A-wrecking my life every hour. 
 
 i-fe- 
 
 Can you imagine what you've done 
 That's made my life a wretched one ? 
 You've led me in the path of wrong, 
 
 Passion! Passion! go along. 
 
 My mother told me years ago. 
 That you would give me pain and woe 
 If I Avould listen to your plea; 
 And sacrifice my life to thee. 
 
 1 turned away from her advice. 
 Thinking that your way would suffice ; 
 I followed you until I found 
 
 That you, bad Passion, had me bound. 
 
 I used to love your way the best; 
 In it I found no peace nor rest. 
 Now I have giv'n my heart to God, 
 And for his cause I'll labor hard. 
 
 I do remember well to-day. 
 
 When first I entered in your way. \ 
 
 You said that you would soon unfold ■ 
 
 To me mysterious joys untold. 
 
50 POEMS. 
 
 I followed you for many years, 
 But every step increased my tears. 
 I worshipped you until I could 
 Not serve my Master when I should. 
 
 go away, I cannot bear 
 
 To face you with that fearful glare; 
 Your actions tell me that you meant 
 To torture me till life was spent. 
 
 Now don't you ever cross my path, 
 For I must surely meet God's wrath, 
 If I to you these moments give 
 In sinful folly while I live. 
 
 1 saw Bad Passion move away 
 With steady steps, without delay, 
 He looked at me as if to say, 
 There'll be a more convenient day. 
 
 Aiid now, dear Lord, I come to thee 
 With perfect faith and liberty. 
 Do make me strong without, within. 
 For Bad Passion will come again. 
 
 SOME FACTS ABOUT DR. L. K. WILLIAMS, 
 Th. B., 
 
 Pastor of Mt. Gilead Baptist Church, Ft, Worth, 
 Texas. 
 
 All brimming full of energy, 
 Intelligence and thrift. 
 
POEMS. 51 
 
 Is the man whom I shall present. 
 
 He has a valued gift 
 Of rarest quality and worth, 
 
 And rightly cultivated. 
 This talent which came with his birth. 
 
 His life illuminated. 
 
 And if I were a painter skilled, 
 
 With careful hand I'd paint 
 A picture of his peerless soul ; 
 
 Nor would I tire nor faint, 
 But express everj quality 
 
 That his calm soul possess, 
 And show the rare and hidden traits 
 
 Which assured his success. 
 
 Unfortunately I cannot 
 
 In this way him portray, 
 But with my pen I'll do my best, 
 
 In a poetic way. 
 Exaggeration I'll not use. 
 
 But facts simple and true; 
 Nor will I try you to confuse, 
 
 For this I never do. 
 
 He makes ''haste slowly" as he climbs 
 
 To prominence and fame; 
 And struggles upward to the mark 
 
 Which he has for his aim. 
 "Undaunted faith and courage bold!" 
 
 Is the slogian he uses; 
 
52 POEMS, 
 
 Then marches he to grasp and hold \ 
 
 Whatever good he chooses. j 
 
 ':- '--.. j 
 
 The beauty of intelligence j 
 
 Makes bright hiis countenance; | 
 
 His eyes, the ''windows of his soul," ] 
 
 Will thoughtful ones convince 4 
 
 That high ideals possess his mind i 
 
 And will his life control, J 
 
 For vdth true eloquence he makes | 
 
 Impressions on the soul. I 
 
 I 
 
 A planner in a class alone, i 
 
 Of rare artistic skill, | 
 
 "A mind to work'' that does not fail, | 
 
 Strong faith and iron will. | 
 
 These qualities of sterling worth j 
 
 Are lifting him to heights i 
 
 Where great men have by faith attained, | 
 
 And shone like beacon lights. ^ 
 
 A classy pulpiteer is he, 
 
 Spiritually inclined ; 
 The Holy Ghost his director; 
 
 Like dynamite confined, 
 Explodes and penetrates the soul, 
 
 And wrecks that inward sin 
 Th,a,t so often misleads a man 
 
 While holding sway within. 
 
 Uncompromisingly he stands 
 'Gainst sin and fornication; 
 
POEMS. 53 
 
 For between righteousness and wrong 
 
 There can be no relation.'* 
 A line was drawn between the two 
 
 And this sign placed upon it: 
 "No tresspassing, neither of you," 
 
 Commanded the Infinite. 
 
 for a few more men to preach 
 The gospel truth and live it; 
 
 Men who will not waste precious time, 
 But to God's service give it. 
 
 on 
 
 STAY WITH YOUR RACE. ] 
 
 Stay with your race, Negro man, ! 
 
 And help it to succeed; , 
 Stay with it, 'tis a part of you ; 
 
 Its progress don't impede. \ 
 
 Stay with your race when you have w 
 
 Some prominence and fame; 
 Let not prosperity be us-ed 
 
 Your passions to inflame. 
 
 Stay with the women of your race 
 
 They're good enough for you; 
 Don't worship at another's shrine. 
 
 But to your own be true. 
 
 Don't leave your race to others seek, 
 
 For those you leave behind, 
 It has enough things to endure 
 
 From prejudice unkind. 
 
54 POEMS. 
 
 When you have become prominent, ; 
 
 And hold a famous place, ^ 
 
 Don't spurn the one who helped you up, ] 
 
 Nor find fault of the race. ; 
 
 Stay with your race for you may fall \ 
 
 And have your sins to reap. 
 
 Then your best friends in other ranks '. 
 
 May shun you while you weep. 
 
 let your race be your ideal. 
 
 You can no higher go, j 
 
 For when it has a bad mishap ■ 
 
 It hurts you too, you know. 1 
 
 I 
 
 '1 
 
 The word Negro includes us all, 
 
 The 'high as well as low; j 
 
 And you'll be recognized as such j 
 
 No matter where you go. \ 
 
 You may be brown, you may be bleached. 
 
 You may be white ais snow. 
 But if there's Negro blood in you, 
 
 In some way it will show. 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO THE B. Y. P. U. OF MT. 
 GILEAD CHURCH, FORT 
 WORTH, TEXAS. 
 
 THE PRESIDENT'S RIDE. 
 
 In a progressive Chariot the president rides 
 He is drawn by eight horses, in which he confides. 
 
POEMS. 55 
 
 Eight reins, four in each hand, he manfully holds, 
 And his great flag of valor his bearer unfolds. 
 
 Each horse has a crown that is brilliant and new. 
 With these letters engraved in them: '^B. Y. P. U." 
 The pledge of the Union is well fixed in mind. 
 And the objects well stated and clearly defined. 
 
 Just one move and a crack of the president's whip 
 Make these steeds dart away like a crest-riding 
 
 ship. 
 "To the heights, to the top of the hill!" is his cry; 
 "Ye captains and. leaders, get ready and fly !" 
 
 The bright beams of loyalty glow in their faces ; 
 They speed to the heights with no slack in their 
 
 traces. 
 And scale the high mountain of fortune and fam-3 
 Where they build for the Union an honorable 
 
 name. 
 
 The two foremost horses are noted for speed; 
 They pull well together, and they will succeed. 
 For they are reliable and have attained 
 The heights of our confidence which were or- 
 dained. 
 
 The next to the foremost has been truly tried; 
 The president smiles when he sees how they 
 
 glide 
 Up the slope of the mountain with efforts untired, 
 With great force of progress and ambitions fired. 
 
56 POEMS. 
 
 The next span of horses are willing to show- 
 That they are aimbitious and ready to go, 
 At the will of the president, who is their guide. 
 Their good work and energy can't be denied. 
 
 Then next come the wheel horses, noble and true, 
 Who know how to pull for the B. Y. P. U. 
 They are ever loyal and ready to skip 
 Up the heights at a glance of the president's whip. 
 
 And this is the president's song as he goes; 
 The song he is singing, the whole Union knows. 
 As he drives to the goal with his spirited noise, 
 In efforts to save all the young girls and boys. 
 
 "Come, Lewis and Lawrence, and Sadie and Eva! 
 We must scale the heights to the goal now or 
 
 never ; 
 Come, Ellis and Logans, and Finnie and Mamie, 
 And show to the world that you're plucky anci 
 
 gamey." 
 
 So the president rides, and swiftly he glides 
 In his progressive chariot* with joy and pride; 
 His aim at the top of the mountain is true, 
 And he'll surely land with the B. Y. P. U. 
 
 THIRTY-SIXTH ANNIVERSARY OF MT. 
 
 GILEAD BAPTIST CHURCH, NOVEMBER 
 
 2G, 1911. 
 
 My friends, come, let us take a stroll. 
 And thirty-six long years unroll; 
 
POEMS, 
 
 Let's note the events, great and small, 
 There's inspiration in them for all. 
 
 The wheel of progress is the key 
 
 That I shall use to make you see 
 
 The changes which these years have brought, 
 
 By men of wisdom, brain and thought. 
 
 They're Dr. Griggs and Dr. Hay, 
 And Dr. Jones, who paved the way; 
 Our Deacons Fowler, Crouch and Hines 
 Held up the hands cf these divines. 
 
 The women too did weil their parts; 
 They gave the work their hands and hearts. 
 Just as they do in all good work. 
 They never lag nor pine nor shirk. 
 
 The wheel of progress that stood still, 
 Hindered the work against God's will; 
 But He who saw the yoke they wore 
 Unlocked the wheel and let it go. 
 
 The wheel of progress made a turn. 
 And then their hearts begin to yearn 
 For righteousness and peace and love, 
 And blessings from the God above. 
 
 The future may've been dark to them. 
 But they had grace and plenty vim 
 To work and plead and be^ and search, 
 Till they got means to build a church. 
 
58 POEMS. 
 
 Determined and steadfast they grew, 
 And proved by works that they were true; 
 Directed by that unseen hand, 
 They bought a lot and this church planned. 
 
 The wheel of progress turned again, 
 Which brought about a change within 
 The hearts of them who had not stood 
 With those determined to do good. 
 
 The wheel of progress, round by round, 
 Brought in new ideas true and sound; 
 Old ideas vanished with the past. 
 They were too old; they could not last. 
 
 The wheel of progress spun and whirled. 
 And new edifices unfurled ; 
 The old frame structures once admired 
 Gave 'way to brick ones now required. 
 
 So men with their new ideas came 
 x4nd served the church with works and fame ; 
 That they worked hard, we must admit, 
 For they had courage vim and grit. 
 
 They boldly strove and labored much 
 To build a new Mt. Gilead Church; 
 But God showed them that in His plan 
 The work was for another man. 
 
 No doubt they in a vision saw 
 
 The church that we are working for; 
 
POEMS. 59 
 
 But, like God's leader from Nebo, 
 Viewed Cainaan land but could not go. 
 
 The wheel of progress turned once more. 
 By faith we watched and prayed and lo! 
 A man of God, with grace and fame. 
 Resigned his church and to us came. 
 
 'Twas Dr. Williams, whom God sent, 
 And we were all quite confident 
 That he would build for us a church, 
 For this we know was needed much. 
 
 This fast decaying church, I'm told. 
 By friends, is thirty-six years old; 
 However old may be this frame. 
 We shou'ld perpetuate its name. 
 
 And now, my friends, you will not care 
 If I should take one moment rare 
 To pay due homage to this church, 
 In which we all have labored much. 
 
 Oh, sacred church! thy walls and pews 
 Will just a few more days be used; 
 We're planning a new edifice 
 For which we're making sacrifice. 
 
 Oh, pulpit, sacred and divine! 
 No mission is so true as thine; 
 Old and untidy though you be, 
 We all have due respects for thee. 
 
60 POEMS. 
 
 Baptizing pool! we reverence thee; 
 Thou liquid grave! how dear to me. 
 Plunged in thy bosom out of sight, 
 Souls were baptized who found the light. 
 
 Thou, soul-reviving instrument, 
 From thee much music has been sent; 
 We'll give thee a vacation soon, 
 For thou art* old and out of tune. 
 
 Farewell, thou tolling bell, farewell! 
 Thy story is too sad to tell ; 
 With awe we've heard thy thrilling soimd 
 In one sad note for miles around. 
 
 Now, friends and members, pray and work; 
 Our duty we should never shirk. 
 And while the wheel of progress rolls, 
 Let's build a modern church for souls. 
 
 THE TEMPLES OLD AND NEW. 
 
 Delivered at the Corner-Stone Laying of the Mt. 
 
 Gilead Church, Fort Worth, Texas. 
 
 More than two thousand years ago. 
 
 When David reigned as king, 
 A longing to build God a house 
 
 Within his soul did ring. 
 
 God said to him: ''Thou shalt not build 
 This house, beloved one; 
 
POEMS. 61 
 
 The temple that is in thy mind 
 Shall be built by thy son." 
 
 David grew old and passed away ; I 
 
 His soul went to its rest. ! 
 
 And Solomon reigned in his stead, , 
 
 For it was God*s request. ; 
 
 King Solomon the temple planned 
 
 In the name of the Lord; 
 To build a cheap house for his God 
 
 He c(mld not well afford. ; 
 
 Hiram, his friend, said unto him: 1 
 
 "I heard about thy plan; ' 
 
 ril send timbers from Lebanon, \ 
 
 And help you all I can." I 
 
 So Hiram sent to Solomon 
 
 Great cedar trees of worth; 
 
 And in return received supplies ; 
 
 Of wheat, the best on earth. 
 
 By mutual aid he did succeed i 
 
 The temple built was grand; ! 
 
 For everything was fixed just like ; 
 
 King Solomon had planned. j 
 
 It measured sixty cubits long, 1 
 
 And twenty cubits wide; 1 
 
 And thirty cubits high. It was i 
 
 Exact on every side. ] 
 
62 POEMS, 
 
 The porch before the temple was 
 
 Twenty cubits in length; 
 This added to the edifice 
 
 Rare beauty, grace and strength. 
 
 No hammer, ax, nor iron tools 
 
 Were by the builders used; 
 To build God's house with iron tools 
 
 King Solomon refused. 
 
 The stones were hewn before they were 
 In this great structure placed; 
 
 The skilled Sidonians hewd them out 
 With precision and haste. 
 
 The house was built and overlaid 
 
 With quantities of gold. 
 No other house was ever built 
 
 As fine as this, Fm told. 
 
 Then came the dedication day, 
 And Solomon's great prayer; 
 
 His soul he poured out to the Lord, 
 Who heard and blessed him there. 
 
 He prayed to God to have respect 
 
 Unto that special prayer; 
 God promised to stay hard by him, 
 
 If he'd of sin beware. 
 
 God's glory filled the holy place, 
 So that the priests could not 
 
POEMS. 63 
 
 Perforin their duties, for his presence 
 Made sacred that spot. 
 
 My friends, behold Mt. Gilead Temple 
 
 That is being built; 
 And modern Solomon who planned it, 
 
 One who has no guilt. 
 
 The preacher who first planned to build it 
 
 Sleep eth in the grave 
 Like David; but made the preparation 
 
 And good counsel gave. 
 
 Dr. Williams caught the inspiration 
 
 And this temple planned; 
 God gave to him true faith and wisdom, 
 
 And a working band. 
 
 Every deacon, every member 
 
 Of this church must work; 
 For he tells them from the pulpit 
 
 That they cannot shirk. 
 
 No inactive, slothful member 
 
 Shall stop our progress; 
 If they cannot go on with us 
 
 They should now confess. 
 
 When I see these six great columns 
 
 With mine eyes intense, 
 Vm reminded of six valiant 
 
 Soldiers of defense. 
 
64 POEMS. 
 
 See that beautiful roof -garden, 
 
 Elevated high 
 In the healthful, balmy breezes, 
 
 Sweeping through the sky! 
 
 You shall see the stained glass windows 
 
 Gleaming in the sun; 
 Every gleam will show God^s presence, 
 
 Greeting every one. 
 
 It was thought that such a building 
 - Was only a joke; 
 And such could not be erected 
 By the colored folk. 
 
 I can see the future glory 
 
 Of this modem church, 
 Shining out like rays of sunshine, 
 
 Seeking hearts to touch. 
 
 We have met, my friends, to see them 
 
 Lay the corner-stone 
 Of the new Mt. Gilead Temple, 
 
 Which we love and own. 
 
 It is sacred and it should be 
 
 Laid by Christian hands; 
 Men whose hearts are pure and stainless, 
 
 Keeping God's commands. 
 
 If Father Time or Accident 
 Destroy this Holy Shrine, 
 
POEMS. 65 
 
 And friends and kindred come around 
 Seeking relics divine, 
 
 may they find a record of 
 
 Our gifts sealed with this stone, 
 
 And it will other souls inspire 
 When we are dead and gone. 
 
 Sunday, August 11, 1912. 
 
 A GLOWING TRIBUTE OF RESPECT TO 
 PROF. S. H. FOWLER AND THE MT. 
 GILEAD B. Y. P. U., FORT WORTH, 
 TEXAS. 
 
 Have you heard of the Mt. Gilead B. Y. P. U. 
 With its four noted sections so faithful and true ? 
 The captains and leaders are thoroughly trained 
 To manage their sections with the knowledge 
 gained. 
 
 The Willing and Ready, a section of fame. 
 Puts forth every effort to prove well its name; 
 Mmes. Logans and Ellis are striving to show 
 That they have the habit of making things go. 
 
 The next is a section whose workers are good, 
 Its method for working is well understood ; 
 'Tis the Ever Loyal that makes good reports, 
 It is led by Miss Fulcher and Miss Bertha Coats. 
 
 And now comes the *'Big Thing," the True and the 
 Tried, 
 
GQ POEMS, 
 
 With Ever the leader and Mris. Caldwell the guide; 
 You may say what you please, you may talk ot 
 
 defeat, 
 But the True and Tried section is sure hard to 
 
 beat. 
 
 The fourth and last section we cannot forget, 
 Tis the "Old Reliable," the biggest thing yet; 
 William Lewis, the captain, is so dignified 
 Because Mrs. Lawrence is the faithful guide. 
 
 The great study course of the B. Y. P. U. 
 Has Brother Quick Bui ton, one of the few 
 Young men, who is willingly giving his time 
 To teach Baptist doctrine, and warn against 
 crime. 
 
 Prof. Steve Fowler, the president in charge. 
 Keeps warm in his bosom a heart that is large; 
 He treats all alike, and to all he is true. 
 And works with his might for the B. Y. P. U. 
 
 Members and leaders of the B. Y. P. U., 
 Let us give Fowler honor; to him it is due. 
 Give him a few flowers before he is dead. 
 For by him we know we are carefully led. 
 
 Let us hold neither envy nor strife in our heart's 
 Against our president, who always imparts 
 Such wholesome instructions that uplift our band, 
 But rally around him and hold up his hand. 
 
POEMS. 67 
 
 Let us work fcr the uplift of young girls and 
 
 boys, 
 To lighten their burdens and enhance their joys; 
 Let us lift up the fallen, and strengthen the weak, 
 Teach them to be humble, and lowly and meek. 
 
 Don't ever scorn those who cannot dress like you ; 
 'Tis not the spirit of the B. Y. P. U. 
 Be careful, the seed that you sow with deceit 
 May spring up and your good intentions defeat. 
 
 Let all of your motives be good and sincere. 
 And prove to your leader that you have no fear 
 To heed his instructions and pay what is due. 
 For this is the life of the B. Y. P. U. 
 
 And now, president of the B. Y. P. U., 
 Time is too limited to further pursue 
 The course I have taken to strengthen this band 
 Of the best set of workers throughout all the 
 land. 
 
 You were born for the place that you now hold 
 so well. 
 
 What the future still holds for you, we cannot 
 tell: 
 
 But we judge from the good v^e are doing today 
 
 That there's something in store for you not far 
 away. 
 
QS POEMS. 
 
 EXPRESSED FEELINGS OF MRS. MATILDA 
 
 SMITH, FT. WORTH, TEX., AN AUNT OF 
 
 MRS. LULA HANSON EDMUNDS, 
 
 WHO DEPARTED THIS LIFE 
 
 OCT. 31, AT PARIS, TEX. 
 
 Like a midnight prowling thief. 
 
 Death, with cunning hand, 
 Stole from us a precious gem. 
 
 That shone in our land. 
 
 Pure and spotless was this gem, 
 
 Tender, young and gay, 
 Only twenty-one was she, 
 Making bright her way. 
 
 Lulu Edmunds was her name. 
 
 Loved by all, was she, 
 From her birth unto her death, 
 
 She was dear to me. 
 
 One small spark fell from this gem, 
 
 Nine months old, they say; 
 Sweet and promising is she. 
 
 Little Hilda May. 
 
 Left she here a husband true, 
 
 No doubt sad and grieved; 
 Clarence Edmunds is the one. 
 
 Who is now bereaved. 
 
 While her mother was away 
 In another town, 
 
POEMS. 69 
 
 Angels bore her soul above, 
 Where she'll wear her crown. 
 
 Ah well, Death! your work is done, 
 You made cold her frame; 
 
 But her soul you cannot touch, 
 Nor destroy her name. 
 
 Yes, she's gone to realms above, 
 
 But we're glad to know 
 That her spirit has been washed 
 
 Whiter than the snow. 
 
 EXPRESSED FEELINGS OF MRS. A. C. ED- 
 MUNDS, DAUGHTER OF THE DECEASED 
 Wm. SCOTT, OF FORT WORTH, TEX. 
 
 Now, Death, whom shall you visit next 
 
 In our dear family? 
 And at what time may we expect 
 
 You as our company? 
 
 say, thou uninvited guest! 
 
 What shocks and pains you give; 
 You heed not our earnest request 
 
 To let us longer live. 
 
 Only a little while ago, 
 
 You came so suddenly. 
 And with one fatal finished blow 
 
 Made sad our family. 
 
^0 POEMS. 
 
 Twas father whom you gave a stroke 
 That chilled his feeble frame; 
 
 Into our little flock you broke, 
 And took away our claim. 
 
 My Brother Charley, Brother John, 
 
 Mother, Bess and I, 
 And little sister, Mamie Scott, 
 
 Were made to mourn and sigh. 
 
 But Jesus Christ, who once lived here, 
 
 Removed thy deathly sting, 
 So that a Christian needs not fear 
 
 To die and meet his King. 
 
 Our father, William Scott, has gone 
 To rest in that sweet clime, 
 
 Where health and peace are ever known; 
 To dwell with saints sublime. 
 
 Forever will his teachings be \ 
 
 My guide, my all, my own; 
 I'll ever keep them hard by me, 
 
 That my respects be shown. 
 
 THE PASSING OF BROTHER HENRY 
 TOBIN. 
 
 One of God's lights, a shining beam, 
 
 A ray from Jesus Christ, 
 Has gone beyond the chilly stream 
 
 To realms of Paradise. 
 
POEMS. 71 
 
 Realms in which he has found the source, 
 From which all blessings came; 
 
 The fountain whence he got his force 
 Before dea,th chilled his frame. 
 
 His funeral was a simple one, 
 
 His friends a faithful few; 
 Life's battle hard he fought and won, 
 
 With heaven in his view. 
 
 No choir to chant the farewell hymn. 
 
 No floral offerings seen; 
 0, God, be merciful to them 
 
 For some are cold, I ween. 
 
 ''Upon this rock I'll build my church," 
 This text he found and preached; 
 
 These dying words impressed me much. 
 My aching heart they reached. 
 
 His wife and little daughter came. 
 
 While life was ebbing 'way; 
 He recognized them just the same. 
 
 And counselled them to pray. 
 
 — By Request, 
 
 A POEM OF SYMPATHY. 
 
 I know of a woman most comely and fair, 
 Yet bereaved of her husband and child; 
 
 She wears an expression exceedingly rare, 
 Which proves her to be very mild. 
 
I 
 
 , 1 
 
 72 POEMS. '- 
 
 Like Ruth, slie was faithful to the last, j 
 
 But knowing that God knows best, \ 
 
 She is not worried about the things of the past, j 
 
 Though they put her to a severe test. ^ 
 
 May Arch-angels guide her in life's rugged path \ 
 
 And help her the burdens to bear; i 
 
 May she ever endeavor to escape God's wrath ^ 
 
 And of all entrapments beware. j 
 
 1 
 May thoughts of the past give strength to her 
 
 soul, \ 
 
 And birth to new thoughts, good and true, j 
 
 And may she not worry, but strive for the goal, \ 
 
 For God will her spirit renew. . 
 
 In my heart much sympathy is stored 
 
 And reserved for those in distress; ] 
 
 This I must prove ere I have reached my abode | 
 
 And stand before God and confess. 'i 
 
 DRAW THE LINE. I 
 
 Draw ye the line, Oh, Christian host, 
 And do not on large numbers boast; 
 But separate yourselves from men. 
 Who do not boldly condemn sin. 
 
 Draw ye the line direct and clear, 
 And do not hesitate and fear 
 To exclude all who do not stand 
 For righteousness as God has planned. 
 
POEMS. 73 \ 
 
 Draw ye the line of self-respect, 
 Your companions and friends select. 
 No doubt 'twill some one-'s feelings hurt, 
 But we should untrue friends desert. 
 
 Draw ye the line and on the side 
 Of righteousness and truth abide, 
 And stay there if it costs your life 
 To disapprove of sin and strife. 
 
 Draw ye the line that will exclude 
 Men of high ranks who will delude 
 The race, from whom they got their start, 
 Then for prosperity depart. 
 
 Draw ye the line that will divide 
 You from deceitful men who hide 
 At times when you expect them most. 
 To stand unswerved at duty's post. 
 
 Draw ye the line though hissed and scorned, 
 Don't join the world to be adorned 
 With worldliness for outward show, 
 But let the unreliable go. 
 
 Draw ye the line though friends be lost. 
 Don't hesitate nor count the cost; 
 For we are in the field to fight. 
 So don't expect to make a flight. 
 
 Draw ye the line, for God has frowned 
 Upon that class of men renowned 
 
74 POEMS. I 
 
 ^ ^ . ^ 
 
 For p'ling up decaying wealth, 
 
 Which they have gained by craft and stealth. : 
 
 i i 
 
 Draw ye the line e'en in your homes, i 
 
 And don't admit that class who roams \ 
 
 The districts of debauch and shame. -^ 
 
 Then seek to wreck your family's name. j 
 
 Now heed the lines inscribed above, 
 
 And let your hearts be filled with love I 
 
 For purity and lives divine; I 
 
 And this will help you draw the line. \ 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO THE LIFE OF THE LATE 
 
 DEACON E. HINES, OF THE MT. GILEAD ] 
 
 BAPTIST CHURCH, FT. WORTH, TEX. ; 
 
 Ah, Father Time! thy cycle keen ] 
 
 Has struck the fatal blow, i 
 
 That in life's forest felled a tree 1 
 
 Which we shall see no more. l 
 
 Nay, not on this terrestrial ball, | 
 
 Nor in this world of sin, i 
 
 Where howling winds doth bend and shake ; 
 
 The feeble frames of men. I 
 
 Bait in that happy land of bliss. 
 Where God and angels dwell. 
 
 This faithful soul has gone to rest 
 In peace. There all is well. 
 
POEMS. 75 
 
 Some souls have in this forest fell ■ 
 
 That no doubt we all miss ; i 
 
 But who was not completely shocked - 
 
 By such a fall as this? ; 
 
 Yea, ev'ry fibre in our frame ^ 
 
 Was surely made to thrill ; 
 
 With pity, awe and tears of grief, ] 
 
 But it was God's own will. \ 
 
 Remember, friends, while standing by i 
 
 The contribution table, i 
 
 He said, "I may stand here no more, j 
 
 For I may not be able.'* I 
 
 Could you express your feelings when i 
 
 He spoke those words so true? ^ 
 
 Did not the fervor in those words ' 
 Leave some sad thought with you ? 
 
 How torpid is that soul w^ho can ] 
 
 Not feel that sacred fire, I 
 
 Or Holy Ghost of Christians who I 
 
 Are ready to retire! ; 
 
 Dear wife and relatives, weep not, 
 
 For he has gone above, \ 
 
 To join that great angelic host, i 
 
 And sing the song of love. 
 
 Secret Fraternal friends, I say: ( 
 No grips nor pass-words can 
 
76 POEMS, 
 
 Get his attention now, for he 
 Has left this earthly clan. 
 
 Rule on, thou God above, rule on! 
 
 Thy weapon here with power 
 Is striking down our choicest gems 
 
 In some way, ev'ry hour. 
 
 OUR HEROES. 
 
 My friend, I am a bard unknown, 
 
 Of African descent; 
 They call me Negro, that's all right; 
 
 'Tis him I represent. 
 The name does not depreciate 
 
 That patriotic zeal, 
 Or love I bear my countrymen. 
 
 Which is sincere and real. 
 
 Below I flash on canvas white 
 
 The heroes of my race; 
 Great optimists who saw the future 
 
 Blooming full of grace. 
 These men by their undying deeds 
 
 Have brought great things to past; 
 And they've received some recognition 
 
 From the world at last. 
 
 Their faithful work is not in vain, 
 
 For there are some results 
 Of their heroic acts and deeds 
 
POEMS. 11 
 
 Yet living 'midst insults; 
 Their lives have proved that faith and works 
 
 Will uplift any race 
 Who is determined to rise up 
 
 From folly and disgrace. 
 
 He stirred the land of England 
 
 With lectures that did appeal 
 To gentlemen of note, who praised 
 
 His noble wit and zeal; 
 With eloquence he lifted them 
 
 To realms where men are men, 
 Where't makes no difference about 
 
 The color of the skin. 
 
 Permit me now to change the scene 
 
 To hero number two; 
 Paul Laurence Dunbar sang his songs 
 
 Of ''Lowly life'' to you. 
 "When Lindy sings" and ''Drowsy Day" 
 
 Have made a lasting hit; 
 "Ere sleep comes down to soothe the eyes" 
 
 Shows his uncommon wit. 
 
 Behold Fre-d Douglass on the scene, \ 
 
 An orator of fame, ' 
 
 Born in a lowly cabin, yet, ■ 
 
 Built for himself a name. j 
 
 Some inward feeling forced his soul j 
 
 To rise up and decry j 
 
 The promoters of slavery, ; 
 
 Whose lash he did defy. 
 
78 POEMS, 
 
 He went to England too and sang 
 
 His "Lyres of lowly life;" 
 Men heard his great poetic soul 
 
 Ring like the shrill tones of fife. 
 They looked beyond his slender frame 
 
 To his immortal soul, 
 And saw therein a predous gem, 
 
 Which men did fain extol. 
 
 Scene number three presents to you 
 
 A man of humble birth; 
 The most successful Negro man 
 
 That ever lived on earth. 
 'Tis Booker Washington, the man 
 
 Who stirred the nations wide 
 With ideas that give the race 
 
 The greatest hope and pride. 
 
 By using his best common sense 
 
 And power to persuade, 
 Great men of wealth and noble hearts 
 
 To him attention paid; 
 And when their confidence he'd gained, 
 
 Their money freely went 
 To help support the Institute 
 
 Of which he's president. 
 
 Let's change the scene to one who is 
 
 Our literary choice; 
 A literary genius is 
 
 W. B. Du Bois. 
 He drank like other geniuses 
 
POEMS. 79 
 
 From pierian spring, 
 And we shall ever hail him ag 
 Our literary king. 
 
 Then Thomas Fortune's brilliancy 
 
 Is spreading o'er the land, 
 Illuminating gloomy souls. 
 
 Who need a helping hand. 
 To lift them from despondency 
 
 To heights encouraging, 
 Where ignorance can never tread, 
 
 For success rules as king. 
 
 The next is Dr. E. C. Morris, 
 
 A leader of note; 
 With the united Baptist host 
 
 To greatness without noise. 
 
 And energy and will, 
 They have condemned the pessimist 
 
 For being hopeless still. 
 
 Thank thee, Heroism, for thy tributes 
 
 To the race. 
 By thee our men have met life's problems 
 
 Bravely, face to face. 
 May thy great spirit be inspiring 
 
 To our coming boys. 
 That they may take a steady move 
 
 He claims to hold the fort. 
 He holds the gavel in his hand 
 
80 POEMS. 
 
 And raps for order, and ; 
 
 Nearly three million Baptists bow ^ 
 
 Their heads at his command. * 
 
 We have another genius that ' 
 
 Is budding into fame; 
 
 A young man of intelligence \ 
 
 Whom we shall always claim, I 
 
 As a product of Texas blood; i 
 
 "A chip from the old block." j 
 
 'Tis S. E. Griggs, an author, who ^ 
 
 Came from no common stock. \ 
 
 Then comes the Dr. R. H. Boyd, I 
 
 A great founder is he; ' 
 
 Who planned the famed publishing house ^ 
 
 In Nashville, Tennessee. 1 
 This house publishes literature 
 
 That Negro brains produce, 
 Which is sent out in quantities . j 
 
 Each month, for our use. ] 
 
 A man of God comes on the scene, ; 
 
 A Christian too is he; ' 
 
 A great divine of moral strength k 
 
 Is the Bishop Tyree. i 
 
 A power in both thought and deed, \ 
 
 Rich in experience; j 
 
 And one of the best traits of all \ 
 
 He uses common sense. ; ^ 
 
 •! 
 i 
 
 The Bishop Grant, whose sacred frame \ 
 
 hies moulding in the clay, \ 
 
POEMS. 81 
 
 Comes on the scene with noiseless steps, 
 
 A soul in white array. 
 His glowing deeds and acts divine 
 
 With us shall always live; 
 His life we'll try to emulate, 
 
 And best attention give. 
 
 And there are other heroes too, 
 
 Whose deeds shine like the sun; 
 I think the whole world needs to know 
 
 What these brave men have done. 
 Many heroic deeds are done 
 
 Without one word of praise; 
 Yet we enjoy the fruits they bear 
 
 In many diff' rent ways. 
 
 Fve no respect for brutal strength. 
 
 When used by men for praise; 
 Such should never be used at all 
 
 In these enlightened days 
 By the athletes, who punish men 
 
 To make sport for the world; 
 For such the guilty should be tried, 
 
 And into prison hurled. 
 
 But James B. Parker should be praised 
 
 For his heroic deed; 
 He struck a blow that downed a fiend 
 
 Right in the time of need. 
 He struck the patriotic blow 
 
 The president to save. 
 
82 POEMS. 
 
 But James is dead, and I am sure 
 A hero fills his grave. 
 
 You'll not forget the infantry 
 
 That marched up San Juan Hill ; 
 Unhesitatingly they climbed 
 
 Their duties to fulfill. 
 It had been said that they would flee 
 
 When guns began to fire, 
 But ah, the record made by them 
 
 The world must now admire. 
 
 Have we inventors in our race? | 
 
 Indeed we have! just wait. i 
 
 Elijah McCoy heads the list \ 
 
 With patents twenty-eight; j 
 
 Lubricating appliances for engines \ 
 
 He improved; 
 
 'Twas by this modern invention i 
 
 That the whole world was moved. j 
 
 Granville T. Wood (Black Edison), I 
 
 Electrician of fame, 
 
 Thooight out electric mysteries j 
 
 And made patents for same. j 
 
 He made improvements on important \ 
 
 Instruments of use. ; 
 
 This clearly shows you what the brain ; 
 
 Of Negroes can produce. i 
 
 George Murry, an ex-Congressman \ 
 
 And an inventor too, i 
 
POEMS. 83 
 
 Emancipated without parents, i 
 
 He forged his way through. i 
 
 And now he's stirring the whole South ] 
 
 With eloquent appeals, j 
 
 In ev*ry nook and ev'ry crook 
 
 He's preaching **Race Ideals/' j 
 
 " I 
 
 O Heroism, sacred flame i 
 
 That sets the soul afire, 
 Thou glvest to determined men 
 
 Whatever they desire; [ 
 
 Thou hast rushed them into the very \ 
 
 Jaws of death, and there ■ 
 
 They stood unmoved at duty's post j 
 
 Without fear or despair. 1 
 
 Death even stares at thee surprised 
 
 Before it undertakes 
 To grasp thee with its mighty claws 
 
 And thy gallantry 'wakes. 
 Thy mighty deeds are recognized 
 
 By God, the Infinite, ^ 
 
 For thou art ev'ry Christian's hope ; 
 
 And his chief requisite. i 
 
 deeds of heroism's strength, ] 
 
 How shine they like the sun! ; 
 
 What everlasting monuments of fame 
 
 That they have won! j 
 
 By blood and brain and faultless work, 
 
84 POEMS. 
 
 LOVERS EXPRESSION. 
 
 Ho! there pretty maiden; 
 
 Whither goest thou 
 With thy cheeks a glowing, 
 
 And thy ardent brow? 
 
 Fairest among women, 
 
 And stylish art thou; 
 I would like to win thee. 
 
 But I don't know how. 
 
 Intellect the brightest. 
 Charming art thy ways; 
 
 Talented and gifted. 
 
 As can be found these days. 
 
 Comfort me with kindness, 
 For I'm sick of love; 
 
 Not fickled nor lustful. 
 But like that above. 
 
 Sweeter is thy singing 
 Than the nightingale's; 
 
 Blessed art thou by Nature 
 With a voice that never fails. 
 
 Beautiful and sky-blue 
 Are thy charming eyes; 
 
 Not 'a spot nor blemish 
 In them to disguise. 
 
POEMS. 85 
 
 Teeth like snaw thou showest, 
 
 Pearls of lustre fine; i 
 
 Life so pure and simiple ■ 
 
 Makes thee look divine. '■ 
 
 Thy heart must be honest; 
 
 Else thou could not be 
 Loved by everybody, 
 
 And worshiped by me. 
 
 FIRST LOVE. 
 
 No impression is made so deep 
 As the one made by first love; 
 
 No strong passion through you can creep 
 Like it, for it's from above. 
 
 It is a spark from that great gem 
 Of love, which God has made pure; 
 
 It has been tried by rigid means, 
 But it will always endure. 
 
 How cold and torpid seems the one. 
 Who has been warmed by its flame; 
 
 But failed to recognize its worth. 
 Or good to them when it came. 
 
 The heart in some way was deprived, 
 Or kept away from its choice; 
 
 Or it was forced to take some one 
 O'er whom it could not rejoice. 
 
86 POEMS, 
 
 Nio man nor maiden can forget J 
 
 The early pangs of first love; -' ] 
 
 It sticks, it stays, it holds the place, j 
 
 Its effects time cannot move. l 
 
 i 
 '^ 
 I 
 
 Blessed are they who now enjoy 1 
 
 The fruits of youthful first love ; i 
 
 They're fixed to live in harmony, \ 
 
 Like God and angels above. i 
 
 But 0, what wretchedness one feels, | 
 
 When he has failed by slighting \ 
 
 The one whom God ordained for him. 
 
 How painful and benighting! \ 
 
 1 
 I 
 
 I do believe without a doubt, 
 
 That early, youthful first love 
 Makes the deepest impressions on j 
 
 The soul, which time cannot move. j 
 
 1 
 Many a modern thinker has 
 
 Upon this subject pondered. j 
 
 But all his theories have failed, \ 
 
 And afterwards he wondered. ' 
 
 Scientists are baffled by the term, 
 "First love." They try to reason. 
 
 That youthful passions are but dreams, 
 Or fancies for a season. 
 
POEMS. 87 
 
 But Cupid's arrow naturally 
 Goes deepest in hearts tender; 
 
 The arrow-head baptized in love, 
 Makes any youth surrender. 
 
 But how the arrow-head rebounds 
 When it strikes hearts so hardened 
 
 By intellect, age and mistrust, 
 Which Cupid leaves unpardoned. 
 
 'Tis like religion got in youth, 
 Entwines with hearts so tender; 
 
 And builds him up for usefulness, 
 Magnificence and splendor. 
 
 COMPANIONSHIP. 
 
 Supply the heart which seeks companionship 
 With one whom it can truly love and trust ; 
 
 That it may from the purest fountain sip. 
 Before you are returned to Mother Dust. 
 
 Be very careful that you do not spurn 
 
 Your ideal who may come to you disguised; 
 
 Your pleading heart will surely cry and bum, 
 And by it you will be rightly advised. 
 
 Prepare your heart for that awful love shock, 
 That soon or late may seize you with surprise ; 
 
 Then all your future visions it will mock. 
 And to them you will have to compromise. 
 
 Some one, no doubt, is pining for your love, 
 Whose heart is heaving long and restless 
 sighs; 
 
88 POEMS. 
 
 Some one is waiting patiently to prove 
 That confidence in you within him lies. 
 
 I know your heart is pleading 'gainst your will, 
 For its ideal whom God alone ordained; 
 
 So let it have its way that it might fill 
 
 The soul with love by which it is sustained. 
 
 We oft'ntimes look too high to well succeed, 
 And fail to see the goal within our reach; 
 
 The heart with fickle promises we feed, 
 And it so many harmful things we teacl^ 
 
 But ah! the soul cries out with threats and 
 
 groans : 
 "Give me the balm which soothes the troubled 
 
 breast.*' 
 And then it sighs with such distressful moans, 
 That we find it impossible to rest. 
 
 how distressfully beats the sad heart, 
 When one against its earnest plea resists! 
 
 'Tis useless to bid inward worries part. 
 Since the soul for companionship insists. 
 
 How strive the great contestants now within. 
 True love against procrastination strives 
 
 To conquer that which it has longed to w;n 
 Of which the thief of time so soon deprives. 
 
 What strange passions seize the helpless frame, 
 When first the eyes are cast upon the one 
 
POEMS. 89 
 
 Whom all the forces in our nature claint 
 For its reward, which it has rightly won. 
 
 There is a time and season to all things; 
 
 Be careful for the two are flying fast. 
 They both fly with their swift and speedy wings, 
 
 And will a dreary gloom upon you cast. 
 
 WOMAN. 
 
 Woman! 
 A better term for female kind 
 
 Will ne'er on earth be given; 
 Though we may search with thought and care, 
 
 Till patient outworn and riven. 
 The dripping essence of that word 
 
 Is healthful, sweet and pure; 
 Each drop is sacred love that will 
 
 Eternally endure. 
 
 The magic power in it is God's 
 
 Mystery divine; 
 That influential mystic touch of 
 
 Woman will refine. 
 The very roughest characters, 
 
 With vain and uncouth ways, 
 Respect her, when upon her moral charms 
 
 They peer and gaze. 
 
 Woman, fair woman! Who is she? 
 A Holy Image once deceived, 
 
90 POEMS, 
 
 Afterwards purified; 
 A saint of w:hom the Christ was bom, 
 
 And later glorified. 
 The sacred soil from which a mighty 
 
 Future race should come, 
 Is woman, that fair instrument, 
 
 Who makes the happy home. 
 
 If man's successful, 'tis because 
 
 Womian has made him so; 
 Without her aid no doubt the man 
 
 Would fall to rise no more. 
 A tender touch from woman's hand 
 
 Will give him vim and grit; 
 He'll rise up from his stupor 
 
 And among the great men sit. 
 
 No fine church edifices would grace 
 
 The city or the town; 
 At no time could we point to men 
 
 Of glory and renown, 
 If women did not give to them 
 
 The energy and zeal; 
 And cheer them up when they are "blue," 
 
 To make life seem more real. 
 
 How blessed are the women who 
 Give to the world great men! 
 
 The noble blood that fills her veins. 
 And tender heart within, 
 
 Has produced heroes in our land, 
 Of whom we should be proud; 
 
POEMS. 91 
 
 And when we give them honor, \ 
 
 We should sing their praises loud. j 
 
 j 
 
 < 
 
 Oh woman, be thou ever closed in virtue's ] 
 
 Holy Shrine! ^ 
 
 But let your moral light through all i 
 
 The windows brightly shine. ! 
 
 Those brilliant beams will deep impressions i 
 
 On the masses make; j 
 
 And they will worship you for your own < 
 
 Name and virtue's sake. \ 
 
 i 
 
 Thou hast the power to redeem man • 
 
 From a lowly state. \ 
 
 Then why don't thou redeem him now? j 
 
 Why wilt thou longer wait? | 
 
 If thou wilt cling to virtue true, I 
 
 With all thy pow'r and might, 
 Men will rise up to protect tL-ee, 
 
 When thou art in the right. 
 
 Thou art responsible for man's first i 
 
 Hard and dreadful fall; 
 
 The debt was made, but Christ came here ■ 
 
 And died to pay it all. j 
 But He is gone to Heav'n above while 
 
 Man is falling still; \ 
 
 He gave to thee redeeming love \ 
 
 To save him if thou wilt. '^ 
 
 When God in heaven shall declare 
 That time shall be no more. 
 
92 POEMS. 
 
 And when we hear that thrilling sound 
 From Gabriel's trumpet flow, 
 
 Let all the women who are Christians 
 Form a mighty band, 
 
 And lead the host of valiant men 
 Into the promised land. 
 
 DORINE. 
 
 Ho, Dorine! thou sweet lily, all refreshed with 
 
 morning dew; 
 My heart is panting, soul is yearning for the love 
 
 of you. 
 
 Last night I dreamed of you, and 0, what bliss- 
 ful joys untold, 
 
 Came streaming into my lone heart to your sweet 
 love unfold; 
 
 I thought I saw ycu walking slowly through the 
 land of dreams, 
 
 Whose brilliant lights were sending forth their 
 many golden beams; 
 
 And ev'ry beam of that fair land directly fell on 
 thee; 
 
 Then thou reflected them in smiles which thou 
 let fall on me. 
 
 Yes, I received from thee sweet smiles, the es- 
 sence of thy love; 
 
 The drippings from that holy spring of that fair 
 land above. 
 
POEMS. 93 
 
 I drank and drank, but never tired, for it was 
 
 fresh and fine; 
 The taste was just as royail as that miraculous 
 
 wine. 
 
 Down on my knees I fell and stretched forth my 
 
 strong arms to thee; 
 Thy throbbing heart could not resist, for thou 
 
 came unto me, 
 And fell into these waiting arms which prest thee 
 
 to my heart; 
 And this I whispered in thy ear: "Love, we shall 
 
 never part." 
 
 Our two hearts beat in harmony each stroke the 
 
 meter kept, 
 And when I told my love to thee, how you 
 
 sighed and wept; 
 Those crystal tears flowed freely down and on 
 
 thy heaving breast 
 Were gathered. Then thou fell asleep and took 
 
 thy peaceful rest. 
 
 But ah ! Dorine, we were disturbed, I heard a call 
 
 so rude, 
 Which made me shudder while enwrapt in that 
 
 delightful mood; 
 I then awoke and found that it was just a 
 
 pleasant dream, 
 And yet I hope that dreams come true and be 
 
 just what they seem. 
 
94 POEMS. 
 
 THE FIERY GIRL. 
 
 Have patience with the fiery girl; 
 
 Do not keep her too dose. 
 She's born with fire and energy, 
 
 Which have a terrible force. 
 
 By careful hands she must be taught 
 
 To use her energy; 
 For usefulness of great effect; 
 
 But give her liberty. 
 
 The greatest men of power and brain 
 
 Had fiery p-assions too; 
 But by these passions they have brought 
 
 Some hidden things to view. 
 
 The modern thought is not to hold 
 
 A girl with a tight grasp; 
 Nor try to crush her energy 
 
 By life-destroying task. 
 
 Direct her energy to good; 
 
 Be not too rough nor mean. 
 Be patient, and be careful, for 
 
 Some good results you'll glean. 
 
 How can you tell wh<at's in a girl 
 
 Until she has been tried? 
 You cannot tell what she will do 
 
 'Till she leaves your fireside. 
 
POEMS, 95 
 
 You've seen them kept under the lash 
 Till they were grown; and then 
 
 Those smothered flames of energy 
 Brought forth a horrid sin. 
 
 Some sins of yours that have been crushed 
 
 Will burst forth in her life 
 Like a volcanic eruption, 
 
 Caused by an inward strife, 
 
 The best instructions I can give 
 
 To you, my friend, is this: 
 Teach moral lessons to a girl 
 
 Before she is called Miss. 
 
 Begin these lessons when she's one, 
 And teach them 'til she's twelve; 
 
 Then daily lessons to her give, 
 And in her heart they'll dwell. 
 
 That fiery passion can't be helped; 
 
 That energy and vim 
 Were given her by nature's hand, 
 
 And she will 'tend to them. 
 
 There's no such thing as ^'whipping out" 
 
 The "meanness" of a child; 
 You add more fuel to the flames 
 
 That once were burning mild. 
 
 These observations I have giv'n 
 My precious time and thought; 
 
96 POEMS, 
 
 And great results may be derived, 
 If they are nightly taught. 
 
 A HAPPY HOME. 
 
 ! 
 
 "I 
 
 Tell me what makes a happy home, j 
 
 Where consecrated love ] 
 
 Makes sacred every cabin, and 
 
 Sanctioned by God above? I 
 
 Is it the costly things of life, i 
 
 Or riches piled in heaps; ; 
 
 That miake a home happy and bright, j 
 
 And out of danger keep? \ 
 
 I 
 Are happy homes made by wrecked lives, ] 
 
 Or unmatched married ties, \ 
 
 Or by a wife who cannot show j 
 
 Some kindness in her eyes? 
 
 i 
 Can any home be happy when \ 
 
 The woman pays the bills, 1 
 
 And lets her husband idly go, ; 
 
 Caring not for her ills? 
 
 Or can it be, the man works hard 
 
 To satisfy his wi^e, 
 While she makes home a wretched place 
 
 By her ungrateful life? 
 
 The man and wife should love the same; 
 If this cannot be done. 
 
POEMS, ^1 
 
 *Tis like a cart built for two wheels, l 
 
 But tries to go on one. 
 
 Home IS a place where man and wife, ] 
 
 In unity and love, j 
 
 Are happy when the days are dark, ' 
 
 Then nuptial tie they prove. ! 
 
 Home is the place where children love 
 
 To go and be at rest; 
 They hover 'round their mother's knee, 
 
 For mother knows the best. 
 
 Home is the place where prayer is taught 
 
 To children in their youth; 
 They learn to be obedient, 
 
 And learn to tell the truth. 
 
 Home is the place where father goes ! 
 
 Before the clock strikes nine; 
 
 He meets his wife, whose face is bright, i 
 
 And tells her she looks fine. i 
 
 Home is the place where mother loves I 
 
 To spend most of her time. 
 Her house is not a place in which 
 There're misery and crime. 
 
 I'm sorry for the man who has 
 No place to call his home; 
 
 But has to take what he can get. 
 Or in this wide world roam. 
 
9S POEMS. 
 
 The days of preparation pass, 
 
 And yet he cannot see 
 That worldly pleasures steal his wit, 
 
 And give him misery. 
 
 happy home, blessed home! 
 Made sacred by God's love; 
 
 1 hope that I'll remember thee 
 When I am up above. 
 
 FATHER SUN AND MOTHER EARTH. 
 
 i' J 
 
 Father Sun, and Mother Eiarth, 
 
 Each is of a Godly birth ; 
 
 One to transmit to the other 
 
 That which comforts a good mother. 
 
 Every necessary comfort 
 
 Father Sun transmits to Earth, 
 
 Is returned to Him in offsprings, 
 Beautiful and full of mirth. 
 
 m\ V ■ 
 
 Yes, he spreads his mantle o'er her, 
 Sunny rays of warmth and gold; 
 
 Smiles he through the clouds above her, 
 Glad her beauty to behold. 
 
 She returns the smiles in blossoms, 
 
 Beautiful of golden tint. 
 Gold the essence of his mantle 
 
 That he from the heavens sent. 
 
POEMS. 99 
 
 By his warmth of ardent fervor ; 
 
 Sent directly to the earth, \ 
 
 We receive the blessings from him i 
 
 That keep back the dreadful dearth. 
 
 But sometimes we feel forsaken, 
 
 When the dark clouds hide his rays, \ 
 
 Leaving us to battle with the ^ 
 
 Cold and bleakish, wintry days. ^! 
 
 j 
 
 Yet, when chances are presented, ! 
 
 Through the crevices he smiles ; i 
 Sweeter then are they than ever. 
 
 Though away millions of miles. | 
 
 Full six months sometimes he lingers j 
 
 In the far and distant South; j 
 
 Many times the rain is hindered, j 
 Causing a distressful drouth. 
 
 Yet, he leaves with us this message: 
 
 "Never thou impatient be. i 
 
 When Tve reached my southern limit, 
 
 I will come nearer to thee.*' 
 
 Mother Earth infolds her dear ones \ 
 
 In her bosom to secure 
 
 Them from rough and frigid weather, ! 
 
 For the cold they can't endure. I 
 
 We too get our share of comfort ■ 
 
 By our labor, if we save 
 
100 POEMS, 
 
 That which Earth has given to us 
 With instructions to behave. 
 
 So the Sun in matrimony 
 
 Took to him for v^ife, the Earth; 
 Which bears fruits of all description s, 
 
 Some are valued at great v^orth. 
 
 CHILDREN. 
 
 As the dear old Mother Earth 
 Gives to trees and flowers birth, 
 Aided by the warmth of sun 
 By whom she was wooed and won, 
 So the human mother gives 
 Birth to children while she lives; 
 And the father, good and true, 
 For their comfort will endure. 
 
 As the tender branches grow, 
 And the zephyr breezes blow, 
 Giving health and strength to each, 
 While with leafy hands they reach; 
 So the little babies grow 
 While God's blessings on them flow, 
 Giving each instinct to learn 
 Things for which their hearts do yearn, 
 
 How sweetly the baby smiles, 
 When the mother reconciles 
 It with kind and soothing words. 
 And its form she safely girds. 
 
POEMS. 101 
 
 Don't get angry if it cries - 
 While into the crib it lies; 
 It has troubles of its own, 
 And by crying they are known. 
 
 Mark the woman who does not 
 Love and cheer a little tot; 
 She is dangerous and vain, 
 Sly, distrustful and insane. 
 
 Some would rather nurse a dog. 
 Play with cats or pet a hog; 
 Live disgraceful and defiled, 
 Than to rear a loving child. 
 
 Ah, we pray to God in vain, 
 And do not our heights attain 
 When we take not time to raise 
 Children trained to give God praise. 
 
 Oh, the sweetness of a child. 
 Tender, innocent and mild! 
 Jesus laid his hands on them 
 When they were brought unto him. 
 
 And the world; what will it be 
 
 If the woman fails to see, 
 
 That upon her it depends 
 
 For the child she trains and sends? 
 
 TAMPERING WITH THE MARRIAGE TIE. 
 
 Don't tamper with the marriage tie; 
 For danger and disgrace. 
 
102 POEMS. 
 
 And no doubt death may be your lot; 
 And next, God*s dreadful face. 
 
 Some think it smart, some think it grand. 
 Some think that they succeed, 
 
 When by their charms and cunning plans 
 They make some poor heart bleed. 
 
 The eyes are blind, the wit unkeen, 
 
 That cannot see the ball 
 Or blade of steel that lay in wait 
 
 To serve death's dreadful call. 
 
 That strong desire of lustful flesih 
 Drives the bad passions wild, 
 
 Into some peaceful home to rob. 
 And wreck lives undefiled. 
 
 To wreck a home that love has made 
 
 Is highway robbery. 
 By brutish means you steal the gem 
 
 That made the family. 
 
 The woman who will alienate 
 
 The husband of a sweet 
 And cheerful wife of innocence, 
 
 Will some day worse things meet. 
 
 The man who yields to such a one 
 
 Has need of self-control 
 Over his passions, which increase 
 
 The longing of his soul. 
 
POEMS. lOS 
 
 'Tis foolishness of him who says, 
 'I*ve just found my soul's mate;" 
 
 Then shamefully mistreats his wife 
 For some gay reprobate. 
 
 A reprobate is one who seeks 
 To break up family peace; 
 
 She cares not for the golden rule, 
 Nor does her flirting cease. 
 
 But justice stands waiting for 
 
 The woman or the man, 
 Who breaks the holy nuptial tie 
 
 By some disgraceful plan. 
 
 So do not tamper with the tie 
 That binds the man and wife; 
 
 For you are tampering with Death, 
 And making cheap your life. 
 
 VIRTUE'S SYNONYM. 
 
 The synonym of virtue is 
 
 A maiden pure and fair; 
 Whose chastity and self-resipect 
 
 Direct her way with care. 
 
 11 ' -if 
 Where virtue has been neglected, 
 
 No maiden can be true; 
 For when it's lost to lust of flesh, 
 
 A rapid fall is sure . 
 
104 POEMS. 
 
 Ah maiden! hold to that which God 
 
 Has given you to keep ; 
 As long as breath keeps warm your frame, 
 
 Don't let it from you creep. 
 
 The greatest evil of the day, 
 That's shocking nations wide, 
 
 Is carelessness of maidens, who 
 Do not with virtue 'bide. 
 
 When virtue's lost, that honored name 
 
 Is lost with it, you know; 
 It can't be gotten back again 
 
 Just as it was before. 
 
 You'll weep and wail in misery ; 
 
 The tears will freely flow; --^-^ 
 But nothing can replace that name 
 
 Just as it was before. 
 
 Now is the time to virtue hold; 
 
 Don't let it get away; 
 Just hold to it with all your might, 
 
 'Twill bring sunshine some day. 
 
 Pay no attention to those smiles. 
 
 Nor cute ways to deceive; 
 They'll stain that maiden purity 
 
 With sin that'll make you grieve. 
 
 Humanity is being devoured 
 By worldliness and shame; 
 
POEMS. 105 
 
 'Tis all because our women do 
 Not hold to their good name. 
 
 Rome was the Mistress of the world, 
 
 Till she her virtue lost; 
 She was surprised when she began 
 
 The counting up the cost. 
 
 Social corruption took the place 
 That virtue once enjoyed, 
 
 And swayed the sceptre of despair, 
 Which Rome could not avoid. 
 
 So lustful passions take the place 
 
 Of virtue, pure and fair; 
 Ard steals a niaden's puiiLy, 
 
 Leaving her in despair. 
 
 When Lust comes in Virtue goes out; 
 
 The two cannot agree. 
 Virtue brings peace and quietness, 
 
 While Lust brings misery. 
 
 Virtue, would to God that thou 
 
 Didst live in every home! 
 Then woaild the family be true. 
 
 And brighter days would come. 
 
 Hold up the flag of purity, 
 
 Ye women of our race! 
 And fight against temptations bold, 
 
 That meet you face to face. 
 
106 POEMS. 
 
 BISSEXTILE. 
 
 The Leap Years come and enliven the souls 
 
 Of bachelor girls, like the wind does the coals 
 
 That are smouldering under the ashes so griey, 
 
 Awaiting a chance to shoot forth a ray ; 
 
 Or a spark of love, by Cupid the god, 
 
 And set aflame hearts that are so cold and hard. 
 
 O how the breast of a bachelor heaves 
 When cupid around his stupid heart weaves — 
 A love-tangled net, complicated and strong; 
 Then serenades him with a powerful song! 
 
 Those love pangs of youth come with leaps and 
 
 with bounds, 
 And knock the man out in just one or two 
 
 rounds ; 
 Then a woman stands over him counting the 
 
 time, 
 And making the counts with the heart-beats to 
 
 rhyme. 
 
 Like an old-time machine set aside to decay, 
 That cannot compete with the ones of today; 
 Are gathered together and sold out for junk. 
 So the bachelor and maid who've lost all their 
 spunk. 
 
 But mind you! this junk can be moulded anew; 
 The defects all polished to be kept from view; 
 
POEMS. 107 
 
 Then put on the market, like some are tonight, 
 With faces all painted and cheerful and bright. 
 
 God has made a help-mate for all, I am told ; 
 No matter how ugly, how young, nor how old. 
 But some are so foolish to try to select 
 The mate of another, whom they can't respect. 
 
 One should find his own mate, regardless of cost; 
 In failing to do this, just think what is lost: 
 A tonic, a love-balm, for mind and for heart, 
 A solace, a comfort, a soul-stirring art. 
 
 MAN, WOMAN AND THE SERPENT. 
 
 Marriage, the Holy Tie of God, 
 
 Was begun in creation; 
 He made a woman of man's rib 
 
 To make the combination. 
 
 Flesh of man's flesh, bone of man's bone, 
 
 To make the combination; 
 He made her prettier than man 
 
 To attract his attention. 
 
 All God had made to please the man; 
 
 The heavens and earth in motion. 
 The insects, fowls and animals 
 
 Did not get man's devotion. 
 
 So woman was made for the man; 
 Out of his side was she taken. 
 
108 POEMS, 
 
 Clay of man's clay, flesh of man's flesh, 
 Breath of man's breath, He made her. 
 
 The only enemy of man 
 
 At that time was a serpent; 
 
 He conversed with the woman, and 
 Some idle time with her spent. 
 
 The man was absent at the time.. 
 For had he then been present, 
 
 The serpent then would not have told 
 Her that the fruit was pleaisant. 
 
 The serpent knew the woman's heart; 
 
 He knew that she loved beauty. 
 And when she craved the pleasant fruit 
 
 To eat, thought she, 'tis duty. 
 
 He magnified the beauty of 
 The apples, just to fool her ; 
 
 She then pulled one and took a bite, 
 And cialled her husband to her. 
 
 The silly man came walking up, 
 And bewitched by her beauty. 
 
 Was soon caught in the serpent's net, 
 Which kept him from his duty. 
 
 Late in the evening, God came down, 
 And called for man whom He had made. 
 
 He and his wife sat sad and 'lone 
 Under the apple tree shade. 
 
POEMS. 109 
 
 God asked the man about the fruit, 
 But man said it was his wife 
 
 Who urged him so to eat the fruit; 
 Said she, ''It'll not take your life." 
 
 God said to rran, 'Thou surely sbalt eat 
 Bread by the sweat of thy brow." 
 
 Then called He the woman to him, 
 And said, "What hast thou done now?" 
 
 Said she, "The serpent beguiled me, 
 
 And I ate, so did man." 
 Said He, "Thou too shalt not escape 
 
 The punishment in my plan." 
 
 Then came the subtle serpent's turn; 
 
 Nothing of him was asked. 
 But God said, "I will put on you 
 
 A very rigid task." 
 
 "The seed of the womian," said He, 
 "Shall bruise the serpent's head." 
 
 From that day 'till this present time, 
 The devil has misled. 
 
 THE IDEAL GIRL. 
 
 . Like pure gold refined seven times. 
 And from the dross is taken, 
 Is a refined and Christian girl, 
 Whose spirit is awaken 
 
110 POEMS. 
 
 By moral longings of the soul; 
 
 The elements of strength, 
 That lift her high above reproach, 
 
 To her ambitious length. 
 
 Ambitions which cannot be crushed, 
 
 Tho* eiarth with sin entice; 
 If from a loyal heart they come 
 
 To help and sacrifice. 
 Her outward costume may not glare, 
 
 Nor her physique attract; 
 But in her hea;rt a record's made 
 
 Of every moral act. 
 
 She's like a very precious stone, 
 
 Wrapped in some rugged form; 
 Unnoticed, walked around and spurned, 
 
 The surface has no charm; 
 But ah! there lies within that form 
 
 A sparkling diamond pure. 
 Investigate, and you will find 
 
 In her a heart as true. 
 
 She stands a monumental stone 
 
 Amid abuse and jeers; 
 No loud **hurrahs" from men received, 
 
 But in her soul she hears 
 Applause, from angels above, 
 
 And 'round God's glittering Throne, 
 Where peace and unity abide, 
 
 And love lives on and on. 
 
PEOMS. ill 
 
 TURN LOOSE THAT HEART. 
 
 girl, turn loose that heart of thine that many 
 long to win; 
 
 Turn loose that precious jewel that beats rest- 
 lessly within. 
 
 The breast of one true woer now is heaving rest- 
 less sighs, 
 
 And pleading for its mate, its own, in mournful, 
 ceaseless cries. 
 
 Enclosed within a vault of steel, does thy heart 
 
 seem to be; 
 But rest assured, my lady dear, that some one 
 
 has the key 
 That will unlock that vault, which keeps that 
 
 valued gem confined; 
 And it's the very key I know that Providence 
 
 destined. 
 Canst thou at ease live to thyself when some one 
 
 seeks thy hand. 
 Whose heart is crying for repose and love that 
 
 will expand 
 As long as warmth shall permeate the fibers of 
 
 thy frame? 
 E'en when thou shalt from this life depart, thou'll 
 
 be loved just the same. 
 
 Thou art a true and noble girl, pure as a faultless 
 
 rose ; 
 A man will have to be the same to win that love 
 
 of yours. 
 
112 POEMS. 
 
 Such men are scarce, but there is one whom 
 thou canst love and trust; 
 
 To spurn them all would not be right, but hurt- 
 ful and unjust. 
 
 MARRIAGE IN CREATION. 
 
 On the sixth day of creation. 
 Just before His finished pilan, 
 
 Gk>d deferred His recreation 
 Until He had made a man. 
 
 Everything gave satisfaction. 
 
 Earth and heavens all complete. 
 Nothing brought about a faction, 
 
 For the workmanship was neat. 
 
 In the garden east of Eden, 
 
 Put He man whom He had made. 
 
 Of all the fruits he could have eaten, 
 Except that which He forbade. 
 
 This franchise did not suffice man; 
 
 He was lonesome pining 'way. 
 And he wondered, why in God's plan 
 
 He was left alone to stay. 
 
 All the beasts were matted rightly; 
 
 All the birds happy and gay. 
 And the insects, gay and sprightly, 
 
 Sang to drive man's gloom away. 
 
POEMS. 113 
 
 But the man still gloomy, dreary, ] 
 
 Looked upon these things and frowned; ■ 
 
 For they made his spirit weary, i 
 
 And in them no joy he found. \ 
 
 Then they met again in council. 
 
 (Father, Son and Holy Ghost) 
 
 There they planned for man a helpmeet, \ 
 
 **For," said they, *'we love him most." j 
 
 ■] 
 
 Then God put the man asleeping, 1 
 
 And a rib was taken out; | 
 
 Made He woman for his keeping, ; 
 
 This pleased him without a doubt. ; 
 
 When the man awoke and saw her \ 
 
 Lying gently by his side, i 
 
 His affection kindled for her, < 
 And with her he did abide. 
 
 But the woman, freak and cunning, ; 
 
 Wanted everything slie saw; j 
 
 This set Adam's mind a turning, \ 
 
 And he broke God's holy law. 
 
 \ 
 
 Farther on in God's creation, i 
 
 We see Isaac strolling way J 
 
 'Cross the fields in meditation, ; 
 
 Praying for a vnfe each day. \ 
 
 Farther still, in God's creation, j 
 
 We see Jacob at the well ; ] 
 
114 POEMS. 
 
 He had reached his destination, 
 When on RacheFs neck he feUl. 
 
 Ruth, the faithful in creation, 
 
 Showed much wisdom in her plan; 
 
 Then for marriage correlation, 
 Woman woos as well as man. 
 
 Thus it goes in all creation; 
 
 No man likes to be alone. 
 And we find in every nation, 
 
 That this work is going on. 
 
 LOVE AN INWARD WORRY. 
 
 All out' of sort is man, when love 
 Takes full control within; 
 
 And changes all his future plans. 
 Then starts him out again. 
 
 His mind is tangled like a web, 
 His soul within him cries 
 
 Just like a bird chirps for his mate, 
 When far away she flies. 
 
 He draws a long impatient breath. 
 And heaves a restless sigh; 
 
 His silly, worthless words escape, 
 For nothing they imply. 
 
 He soon retires but cannot sleep. 
 But turns and rolls and turns; 
 
POEMS. 115 
 
 And then he smiles and frowns and groans, \ 
 
 His heart within him yearns. ' 
 
 "Oh worries, let me rest/' says he; j 
 
 ''And let the sleep come down. I 
 
 My soul is in a burning flame, | 
 
 My face a fearful frown. j 
 
 The dawn of day peeps in on him 
 
 After a sleepless night; 1 
 
 He rises, rubs his eyes and smiles, j 
 
 And greets the morninng light. j 
 
 Through all his daily work, he shows i 
 
 His worries mixed with smiles; I 
 
 A combination that reflects J 
 
 His worthless plans in piles. ! 
 
 My friend, if you have never felt | 
 
 The worries named above, 
 
 Just rest assured that you have not | 
 
 As yet been stirred by love. ; 
 
 LOVE'S REQUISITE. ; 
 
 i 
 
 To get the essence of true love j 
 
 And to its sweetness hold, I 
 
 We must bear all the pains it gives ; 
 
 To be shaped in its mold. i 
 
 True love requires great sacrifice 
 
 For its devotions true; j 
 
116 POEMS, 
 
 It conquers every mortars heart 
 With happiness in view. 
 
 Only a few will undergo 
 
 Love's rigid requisites; 
 To taste the healthful fruits it bears 
 
 And all its benefits. 
 
 Love cares not for the gay costumes, 
 In such no heart can trust; 
 
 It spurns and scorns the finest dressed, 
 Who fan the flames of lust. 
 
 Those dreamy eyes and glowing cheeks 
 
 Are forces hard to shun; 
 B'ut these will quickly fade away 
 
 Before a trying sun. 
 
 So many hearts are bleeding now, 
 And cheeks are pale and thin, 
 
 Because deception with its fangs 
 Of poison, works within. 
 
 Love is a flame that must be fed 
 With kindness from thei start; 
 
 And every day add little more 
 To soothe the wanting heart. 
 
 It has a craving appetite, 
 
 That cannot be sufficed 
 By food unpleasant to the taste, 
 
 No matter how enticed. 
 
POEMS. 117 
 
 It wanders lonely through the vvorld, 
 
 Seeking with care to see 
 If this or that is its ideal, 
 
 And asking, 'Is it he?'' 
 
 And when discouraged in the search, 
 
 It takes a substitute; 
 But this will only last until 
 
 The one comes that will suit. 
 
 No power on earth, nor aught but death, 
 
 Can keep' two souls apart. 
 Who are determined to unite 
 
 To satisfy the heart. 
 
 LOVE'S MISTAKES. 
 
 \ 
 I saw a maiden tripping on, | 
 
 So sprightly and so gay, ) 
 
 The distant hills echoed the song I 
 
 That she sang on her way. i 
 
 A Fairy from above, thought I, 
 
 Who must have lost her way; 
 But if she's lost, pray tell me why 
 
 She looks so blithe and gay? 
 
 I slightly made a noise to see : 
 
 This maiden's charming eyes; \ 
 
 Her gaze just captivated me; I 
 
 She's hard to realize. \ 
 
118 POEMS, 
 
 Her form was perfect, face was fair, 
 
 A gracefoil walk had she; 
 Her queenly look and coal black hair 
 
 Just won my heart and me. 
 
 She vanished from my sight at once, 
 
 More quickly than she came; 
 And left me there a silly dunce, 
 
 Alone, without her name. 
 
 She left a yearning in my breast, 
 
 That I could not control; 
 My throbbing heart was put to test, 
 
 And mind began to stroll. 
 
 ''My God!'' thought I; ^'what shall I do. 
 
 Or whither shall I go?" 
 Her presence shocked me through and through. 
 
 Her absence made me sore. 
 
 So off I went alone to sit 
 
 Awhile in solitude. 
 And while I sat, I used my wit, 
 
 To know how to conclude. 
 
 I wondered what impression I 
 
 Had made upon this maid; 
 My mind I could not saJtisfy, 
 
 Because I needed aid. 
 
 So just to give my heart relief, 
 I went to an old man 
 
POEMS. 119 
 
 And told him all about my grief, 
 How that it through me ran. 
 
 Said he, ''My lad, you are deceivied; 
 
 This maiden whom you saw. 
 Would ever make you sad and grieved, 
 
 And fill your heart with awe ! 
 
 "So many promising young men 
 Have been caught in her net. 
 
 Her cunning ways have made her win 
 Some hearts that I regret. 
 
 "Now flee from her or you'll be caught, 
 
 And to disgrace and shame 
 Be tormentted, tortured and brought 
 
 To her disgraceful aim." 
 
 I was not disobedient. 
 
 For this was good advice; 
 It was to him for this I went, 
 
 His story did suffice. 
 
 Then the excitement from me ran, 
 My yearning heart got ease; 
 
 And from now on, Fll always plan 
 To shun such sights as these. 
 
 A LEAP YEAR POEM. 
 WOMAN'S INSTRUCTION TO CUPID. 
 
 'Tis Leap Year, and the women plan 
 To take snme lucky shots at man ; 
 
120 POEMS. 
 
 They, with the little "love-god" met, 
 
 And said to him: "Your arrows whet 
 
 So keen, that when they swiftly dart, 
 
 They'll strike the men right through the heart. 
 
 Now use your wit and skillful ^ye, 
 
 Because upon you we must rely. 
 
 "Submerge the arrow-heads in love; 
 That sacred fluid from above, 
 Then place one gently on your bow, 
 And pull the string and let it go. 
 You'll note the tremor of the string. 
 How the echoes of success ring 
 In harmony with love's reply 
 To every wooing tear and sigh. 
 
 "Shoot every single man you see, 
 Don't miss a one, we instruct thee; 
 We have a mate for every one, 
 So shoot them all and leave out none. 
 You may find Taulites' among them, 
 But shoot them, too, with all your vim, 
 Just capture every one you see — 
 Don't let a single man go free. 
 
 "Widowers and bachelors we need, 
 We'll mate thetm well, yes, indeed; 
 It matters not about the age. 
 Just so he has a cosy cage. 
 Now carry these strict orders out, 
 'Tis your mission, without a doubt; 
 
POEMS, 121 
 
 Report to us at every meeting, 
 
 And we'll give thee a merry greeting.*' 
 
 KISS. 
 
 Kiss is a stimulant that thrills 
 
 The fibres of the soul; 
 The effects are so wonderful 
 
 That we cannot control 
 The throbbing heart that burns witliin 
 
 An e'er echoing breast; 
 'Tis then warm lips bestir themselves 
 
 To answer the request. 
 
 Kiss is an act that has been used 
 
 For ages, ages past; 
 A salutation that has stood, 
 
 And will forever last 
 Through ages yet to come; 
 
 Tho' corrupted it be, 
 The form and fashion v/ill remain 
 
 Throughout eternity. 
 
 'Tis one example of true love, 
 
 When rightly 'tis applied; 
 On Rachers cheek Jacob did place 
 
 A warm one with much pride. 
 God had no objections to it, 
 
 For he, with motive pure, 
 Applied it with no thought of lust. 
 
 Or disgrace in his view. 
 
122 POEMS. 
 
 Like everything, it has two sides; 
 One dark, the other bright. 
 
 The dark one leads us to despair, 
 
 The bright one to delight. 
 Kissing is nature's choicest gift 
 
 To every man and maid; 
 A privilege which they all like ; 
 
 Of it be not afraid. 
 I sometimes wonder if it's not 
 
 Practiced in hea'en above. 
 When all the saints and angels meet 
 
 And kiss with godly love. 
 
 THE JUICY POSSUM. 
 
 De day am cold and de rgound am very wet, 
 
 But I hab de biggest possum in de country, I bet. 
 
 Wy de scent from dat possum amer making me 
 grin, 
 
 An de ¥/ay Ise gwinter stroy him, it is er terri- 
 ble sin. 
 
 Stir up de embers, Sally, so de steam kin play 
 
 de chune 
 Tween de pot an de kiver, lacker mocking bird 
 
 in June. 
 Git er long dar, juicy possum, I kin see your 
 
 finish now; 
 Caint let Moriah cook you, fur she simply donno 
 
 how. 
 
POEMS. 123 
 
 Jenny, git dem taters ready, an don't peel 'em all 
 
 er way. 
 Fur de possum's most ready in de skillet he 
 
 must lay. 
 Now slice 'em in four quarters, so dey all kin 
 
 la&r erroundj ' 
 
 Some berhind him, some berfore him, some on 
 
 top ter hole 'im down. 
 
 Whatcher laughin 'bout dar, Lizzy, am er lookins^ 
 
 melanchol? 
 You might ez well git bizzy wid yer juice^harp 
 
 an yer doll. 
 Fur dar's gwinter be no possum left, no taters, 
 
 neither scent. 
 Case de way dis darkey's feeling now, he aint 
 
 gwine take no hint. 
 Bring me de long fork. Sambo, fur de possum's 
 
 ready now. 
 I'll raze him out dis ju'cy stuff, dat's wriggtling 
 
 on his brow. 
 Now I'll put him in de skillet, and lay dem taters 
 
 round, 
 Den I'll put de led on top ob him, caze it will 
 
 hold him down. 
 Now you set de table, Nancy, put one knife, one 
 
 fork, and spoon; 
 Fur dat am all dat's necessary fur dis Texas 
 
 coon. 
 Put salt, an pepper, f»n er pone-cake on de side; 
 Den I'll close mer eyes an stretch mer mouth, 
 
 an let dat possum slide. 
 
124 POEMS. 
 
 I'll open up dis possum now. Umph! it am 
 
 simply line; 
 I neanter be uneasy becaze all dis possum's mine, 
 ril put him on de table now, and go out ter de 
 
 lot, 
 I want ter eat his possum now, but he am most 
 
 too hot. 
 
 Flapjacks amer sassy dish; wid lasses dey want 
 
 hurt ; 
 ril save 'em last to finish up, fur dey am my 
 
 deserts. 
 I won't be gone so very long, you'll hardly miss 
 
 de time; 
 I hate ter go fur I feel lack I'se bout to do er 
 
 crime. 
 
 Tell Sarah Jane to close dat door, and don let 
 
 Fido in, 
 Fud if dat dog eats up my heart, I'll send you 
 
 to de penn; 
 You must not eben look dat way, w^hile I is at de 
 
 lot. 
 I'd better put er sign on him, dat says, "Don't 
 
 tech me not." 
 
 Woe, Kit! now don't yer fool wid me, fur you will 
 
 git me wrong; 
 I'se gotter go back ter de house, I'se sked ter 
 
 stay too long, 
 Case dat possum's tied er waiting now, I speck 
 
 he's done got cool. 
 I hab er cuis feeling now, and I'se hard ter fool. 
 
POEMS, 125 
 
 Land sakes! Whars dat possum dat I left here 
 while er go, 
 
 And whars dem chilluns and dat dog, does any- 
 body know? 
 
 No scent am left ter tell de tale, no taters can 
 be foun, 
 
 ril kill dem chilluns and dat dog, before de sun 
 goes down. 
 
 DONE QUIT RAISING CHILLUNS. 
 
 Dat folkes done quit raising chilluns. 
 It amer fact widout er dout; 
 
 Fur when you tell dem bout dere mannus, 
 Dey jes stick out dere mouf an pout. 
 
 Dere mammies tell dem dey am angels. 
 An do not teach dem how ter work; 
 
 Dey cram dere heads wid edication, 
 An honest ployment dey will shirk. 
 
 De gals an boys go to de cities, 
 
 An leave dere country homes an farms; 
 
 Dey see dem lectric hghts er shining, 
 An to dem bad places dey swarms. 
 
 Dey furgits mammie, furgit daddy, 
 Furgits church an Sunday school; 
 
 Dey furgits e'c^erything dats decent. 
 Gaze city life turns dem a fool. 
 
126 POEMS. 
 
 Dey go on wid dere foolish capers, 
 Until dey run 'gainst something bad; 
 
 Den when dey's bout gone to destruction, 
 Dey think erbout dere mam an dad. 
 
 But when some gits in high sercity, 
 Dey's shame ter tell where dey come from ; 
 
 Dey'll tell you dey's razed in de city, 
 But dey kin make de cotton hum. 
 
 Some stretch dere necks wid standing collars, 
 An stand er way back on dere hocks; 
 
 But ef dey wuster ter be examined. 
 You'd find no underwear, nor socks. 
 
 De Hoodlum wagon is kept busy, 
 Er hauling vagrants ter de jail; 
 
 While dere poor mammies keeps er begging. 
 Some rich white man ter go dere bail. 
 
 Dey country gals go to de cities, 
 
 Jes as green as dey kin be; 
 Dere heads is turned ail tipsy topsy, 
 
 When all dem puddy things dey see. 
 
 Den all de sports an dudes gits busy, 
 
 An scourts dem country gals er bout; 
 Den when dey gits dem crazy bout dem, 
 Dey takes dem gals an hies dem out. 
 
 Dat's jes de cause ob all dis trouble, 
 Dat cullid folkes always hab; 
 
POEMS. 127 
 
 Dey love ter crowd up in de cities, 
 An in white folkes bizness dab. 
 
 Fs got one boy, his name is Sambo; 
 
 I'se gwinter treat him right I know. 
 But when dat boy talks bout de city, 
 
 ril make him use de gruben hoe. 
 
 LAUGHING SAM. 
 
 Now shut your mouth, and be right calm, 
 Wliile I tell you 'bout laughing Sam. 
 He is a man of robust health, 
 And cares nothing for style nor wealth. 
 
 He lives with his old Grandma Jane, 
 Who lives down on the cottage lane. 
 She knits his socks and makes his clothes, 
 But how she lives nobody knows. 
 
 Now Sam is from a laughing stock; 
 He wears a dirby and a frock. 
 And pulls his dirby o'er his ear, 
 And goes barefooted all the year. 
 
 And he will laugh at anything; 
 
 A preacher, president, or king. 
 
 He cares not for the when nor where, 
 
 But laugh the same he does not care. 
 
 Well, Sam asked me to let him go 
 With me to see the minstrel show: 
 
128 POEMS, 
 
 Said he, '1 won't disturb de peace, 
 Fur dar you know is de police.'' 
 
 I was afraid to trust old Sam, 
 For once he got me in a jam. 
 For which I had to pay a fine; 
 Then said he: ''It's no fault er mine." 
 
 But anyway I let Sam go 
 
 With me, to see the minstrel show. 
 Before the show got started good. 
 It looked like die that fellow would. 
 
 He started off with a ''he he," 
 Then on a sly he looked at me; 
 And afterwards, a loud "ho, ho!" 
 Then stretch his mouth and let her go. 
 
 And after that he laughed so loud. 
 Til he just frightened the whole crowd. 
 He turned again and looked at me, 
 And ended with a loud whoopee! 
 
 He clapped his hands and stamped his feet. 
 And just completely wrecked the seat; 
 He stood up and then yeiTled out right. 
 And gracious! what a fearful sight. 
 
 They had to let the curtains down 
 
 Because the actors stopped to frown. \ 
 
 The people then begin to shout, 1 
 
 "0 police, put that Negro out." \ 
 
POEMS. 129 
 
 The police walked up with a vim, 
 And took a vicious hold on him; 
 Then pushed him forward to the door, 
 Then, oh how laughing Sam did roar! 
 
 'Ihen up came the police patrol, 
 And gracious, how Sam's eyes did roll! 
 The police said to him, "Get in." 
 And Sam began to laugh again. 
 
 Away they carried him to jail, 
 And right behind him men did trail. 
 The mam who raised Sam, said, "You pup, 
 You shall not lock that Negro up.*' 
 
 Said he, "Sam has done nothing wrong. 
 So turn him loose and get along; 
 I'll pay you for those broken seats, 
 You men are regular old cheats." 
 
 The policemen turned Sam loose, 
 And said, "Now go, you silly goose." 
 Sam laughed again, and walked across, 
 And with a grin, said, "Thank yer. Boss." 
 
 A FRETFUL CHILD OF FOUR. 
 
 Me am so tied er staying here 
 All locked up in dis yard; 
 
 Me wanter go ter play vni Jack, 
 Dood dracious aint it hard? 
 
130 POEMS, 
 
 Me want my yittle stockings on, 
 
 And yittle slippers, too; 
 Me want some tandy and some take 
 
 Me want some gum ter chew. 
 
 yond's de watermelon man, 
 
 mama, dit me one! 
 And yond's de hottemolla man, 
 
 m^ma, dit me some. 
 
 Me wish: my papa would come on, 
 
 He moist be at de lodge; 
 My mama's going ter fuss wif him. 
 
 He neanter tryter dodge. 
 
 Mama, you am so dood and sweet, 
 
 Now tan me go ter play? 
 Me will come home at free o'clock, 
 
 Me show want stay all day. 
 
 Mama, aint papa got no sense? 
 
 You told him dat last night; 
 But he told you ter tut dat out, 
 
 Don't you and him would fight. 
 
 mama! me am going ter hush! 
 
 Don't hit me on de head ! 
 Me didn't know dat would make you mad. 
 
 But dat's what papa said. 
 
 You go wight back, old ugly Jack ! 
 Me aint dwine play wif you; 
 
POEMS. 131 
 
 You hit my dog and hurt my cat, 
 And made me go, boo, hoo-oo. 
 
 Mamma, give me a nickle please, 
 
 So I can dit some cream. 
 Me am so hot and feel so bad 
 
 Tell me am bouter scream. 
 
 0, Mr. God, do tell me why 
 
 My mamma is so mean? 
 She is de stingest, closest thing 
 
 Dat I have ever seen. 
 
 Nemine, me will be grown some day, 
 And me want hafter beg 
 
 Mamma ter let me go ter play 
 Er game er mumble-peg. 
 
 TOM FOOL. 
 
 Tom Fool went dowm the streets one day, 
 A walking in a frightful way; 
 Said he, '*Ise looking fur some work 
 An roun' dis bureau Ise gwine lurk." 
 
 The man who sought for Tom a job, 
 Seeing him with a tear and sob, 
 Said this to him : '*I pity you, 
 T hate to see you look so blue." 
 
132 POEMS. 
 
 Then some on© called him to the phone. 
 It was a Jew, whose name was Rone; 
 Said he, *'I want a bully boy, 
 No other kind will I employ." 
 
 ''Now, Tom,'' said he, "good luck to you. 
 You have employment from a Jew; 
 Just go right up and see the man, 
 And try to please him, if you can." 
 
 Tom thanked the man and started out, 
 That he was pleased there is no doubt ; 
 For he went grinning up the street, 
 Knocking a tattoo with his feet. 
 
 Tom Fool soon found the wanted place 
 And met the Jew, face to face. 
 **Well," said the Jew, ''what is your name?' 
 "Tom P'ool," said he, with vim and game. 
 
 "Well then, Tom Fool, what can you do?" 
 Came the next question from the Jew. 
 "Most anything," said Tom to him, 
 And he spoke it with grit and vim. 
 
 "Most anything? Well what is that " 
 Said Rone, the Jew, who fixed his hat. 
 "Most anything you have ter do," 
 Answered Tom Fool to Rone, the Jew. 
 
 "Before I hire you," said the Jew, 
 "I'll put some test questions to you." 
 
POEMS. 133 
 
 "All right," said Tom, ''just roll 'em out, 
 ril answer them widout er doubt." 
 
 "Now ducks and geese we dearly love, 
 And just to your good wisdom prove, 
 If I'd ask you to give them food 
 What would you give to them, old Dude?" 
 
 "I'd give them hay," said Tom to him, 
 "For I know it would fatten them. 
 An' it gives strength to geeses' jaw, 
 An' too I love ter see 'em chaw." 
 
 The Jew proceeded to the next. 
 But he was sure surprised and vexed. 
 "Do ducks and 'geeses' shun the water?" 
 "0 yes!" said Tom, "I think they oughter." 
 
 "I once seen one plunge in er pool, 
 An' I staid dare ter watch de fool. 
 I stood and watched de very spot. 
 But if he's riz I seed it not." 
 
 The puzzled Jew then shook his head, 
 And with a frown and sigh, he said: 
 "That's pretty good, my boy, for you ; 
 Now answer question number two." 
 
 "All right," said Tom, "jes let it come. 
 Fur I show feel like going some; 
 ril jes put on my thinking cap 
 An' prove dat Ise er witty chap." 
 
134 POEMS. 
 
 **I have two horses," said the Jew, 
 *The one named Frank, the other True ; 
 I love them both and treat them right, 
 And keep them looking gay and spright. 
 
 ''Now will you take the greatest care 
 Of these two horses, and beware 
 That you do not feed them too much? 
 For I do not believe in such." 
 
 '1 will,'' said Tom, "with alil my heart, 
 ril feed them scarcely on the starit. 
 An* then hold up fer er few days, 
 
 An' turn 'em out ter let 'em graze. 
 
 "I'll let them eat grass to dere fill, 
 It will save you a big feed bill. 
 I'll give 'em salt and soda too. 
 It'll put the fire in Frank and True. 
 
 "Dar's other things that I can do," 
 
 Said the young fellow to the Jew; 
 
 "I can whistle, I can sing, 
 
 I can cut the pigeon wing. 
 
 I can stand upon my head, 
 
 I can wiggle, I can tread ; 
 
 I can run lacker race hoss, 
 
 I can eben whip de boss; 
 
 I can walk upon a wire, 
 
 I can set yo' house on fire; 
 
 I can take er automatic ^ 
 
POEMS, 135 
 
 An' clean house from base to attic ; 
 
 I can speak to eny tree 
 
 An' it will come straight to me ; 
 
 Now to tell de truf to you, 
 
 I jes simply hate a Jew." 
 
 "Enough of you, enough of you! 
 
 I do not want you," said the Jew. 
 
 "If you should go through all the schools, 
 
 You still would be the king of fools." 
 
 A SHOE PROBLEM. 
 
 I went ter town de udder day 
 Ter git mer wife some shoes, 
 
 But, good greshus, what a time! 
 I almost had de blues. 
 
 I tuck meager ob one foot; 
 
 It meagered six plus fo. 
 She sed ter me, "Show gitem right, 
 
 Er don come home no mo." 
 
 I found sicher diffunts in her foots, 
 Tell I sed, "Sakes er live, 
 
 De udder foot wuz six plus fo. 
 Now dis one's eight plus five." 
 
 I had er problem on my hands; 
 Er hard one, ton, you bet. 
 
136 POEMS. 
 
 But I jeis had ter work it out, 
 It wuz no use to fret. 
 
 So off I went wid vim and grit 
 
 Ter work dat problem out; 
 But as I told you, it show wuz 
 
 Er job widout er dout. 
 
 I searched de biggest store in town 
 
 Fur er thirteen and ten. 
 De clerks all looked at me and said, 
 
 ''Say, uncle, whars you been?'' 
 
 I told dem dat I'd been at home, 
 
 Wid Sara Jane, my wife, 
 But she had sicher temper dat 
 
 I did not enjoy life. 
 
 Dey sed, "I knowed dars something wrong; 
 
 Yo wife is not made right." 
 Den I sed: ''Man, don talk dat way, 
 
 Fur you'll have me ter fight." 
 
 I told dem dat I loved my Jane, 
 
 Her foots suits me alright; 
 And I'll git shoes ter fit dem both, 
 
 Er stay in town all night. 
 
 Den off I went wid courage bold, 
 
 Ter try er nudder store; 
 But met de same discouragement 
 
 Dat I had met before. 
 
POEMS. m 
 
 I tried ergin, and tried ergin, 
 
 Den tried ergin, and den 
 I went right back ter de same ,store, 
 
 And dem clerks sed, "Come in." 
 
 Dey ast me had I found mer shoes, 
 
 And I sed, ''fotchet, no;'* 
 Den dey sed, ''Well, don talk so mean. 
 
 And do not worry so." 
 
 Dey sed dat dey had worked it out, 
 De shoes would cost me more. 
 
 And I sed, *'Tell it den ter me 
 Fur I hab got de dough." 
 
 "One shoe must be a ten," said dey, 
 "And one number thirteen; 
 
 So you will have ter git two pair; 
 Now sharpen your wit keen." 
 
 "You sed you'd have ter pay for dem, 
 
 Two dollars and er half. 
 Now when we work this problem out. 
 
 You show is gw inter laugh. 
 
 "You git one paiir, let ihem be tens, 
 
 De udder pair thirteen ; 
 Den take one shoe from each of dem. 
 
 Do you see what I mean ?" 
 
 "Yas, Boss," sed I, "I see it now, 
 Well I do jes declare! 
 
138 POEMS. 
 
 Two ob dem shoes won't mate so well, 
 But we'll make right one pair." 
 
 So dar went mer five dollar bill, 
 
 I paid him fur both pair. 
 Den off fur home I started out, 
 
 And left dem laughing dare. 
 
 I stored de mismatch pair erway 
 
 In de hay bam erlone, 
 And cared mer wife de udder pair. 
 
 And dar she tried dem on. 
 
 Dey jes fit her, you bet dey did; 
 
 No wrinkles could we see. 
 She wuz so pleased tell she jes had 
 
 Ter jump up and kiss me. 
 Before dis time, I had ter have 
 
 Her shoes made at de shop; 
 But my! dey gin ter charge so much 
 
 Tell I jes had ter stop. 
 But I hab learnt er lesson now, 
 
 Dat I will not furget; 
 I learnt ter work er shoe problem 
 
 Dat makes me proud you bet. 
 
 A HINT TO PREACHERS. 
 
 ''Hock mer God er looker yonder chilluns 
 Aint no preaching now er days; 
 
 Taint lack eating water milluns; 
 
 You must splain jes what you say. 
 
POEMS. 139 
 
 Collud folks am whole lots wizer 
 Den dey wuz in slavery days; 
 
 Dey am grasping lacker mizer 
 After sense, fur it show pays. 
 
 When you stand up in the pulpit, 
 You don*t hafter stomp and ball ; 
 
 Take yer time and try ter preach it 
 Lack er man dat's heared de call. 
 
 Den you must stop drinking licker, 
 
 An er telling funny lies 
 Jes ter make dem folkes snicker, 
 
 Den set down and wink yer eyes. 
 
 When you try ter press de people, 
 Keep your finger out your year ; 
 
 Do not bray, and ball, and hickle. 
 Fur de folkes aint hard ter hear. 
 
 Don't spit on de pulpit carpet, 
 Den slick it over wid yer feet; 
 
 You will kill de spirit, mark it, 
 Den you'll hafter take yer seat. 
 
 Don't yer lose your temper, preacher, 
 When de election's kiner slim; 
 
 Youse no more no udder creature. 
 And dare money blongst ter dem. 
 
 When yer have reached your conclugun 
 In your sermon, den set down: 
 
140 POEMS. 
 
 Don't stand dar an make confugun, 
 Den look foolish lack er clown. 
 
 THE BONELESS HAM, 
 
 De thing dat makes me say am, AM ! 
 Is er ripe and juicy boneless ham; 
 Go ter de patch jes fore day, 
 And fetch de biggest one erway. 
 
 Den lay it softly on de ice. 
 And turn it over once or twice; 
 Den when its cold, ter it attend. 
 By ripping it from end ter end. 
 
 Den call me in ter take er eat, 
 And squar yosef ter see me eat; 
 De juice will overflow my mouf, 
 But sicli is ofen seen down souf. 
 
 Now git er pan ter cetch de seed, 
 Dey leaves my mouf wid sicher speed 
 Tell when de stracks what dey falls in, 
 Dey bounce clear back ter me ergin, 
 
 Ef juice falls down into my llap', 
 Don*t bother me, jes let it drap; 
 De most ob it is gwine inside, 
 It helps de meat and seeds ter slide. 
 
POEMS. 141 
 
 Dat Adam's apple in my thote, 
 Jes plaj^s er chune widout er note; 
 It works itsef right up and down, 
 And makes a terble googling soun'. 
 
 It sends de juice ter de right place, 
 Den I expand and den unlace 
 My belt, and coat, and everything; 
 Dis will give me er better swing. 
 
 Den when Tse done, and feeling fine, 
 Jes send some one ter get de rine; 
 And take er way de pan and seed 
 Caze I'se done certny done de deed. 
 
 rSE DONE SHO'LY LOSE MY GAL. 
 
 Fse done sho'ly loss my gal. 
 
 Hit taint no joke dis time ; 
 Dis heart uv mine is lack er bell 
 
 Dat's cracked an' lost its chime. 
 
 Las' night I rapped on Sally's do,' 
 
 An' she said, ''Who is dat?" 
 I says ter her, "'Sweet, dis is me, 
 
 Fse jes here fur er chat.'' 
 
 She says ter me, "You caint come in 
 
 Caze I has companee." 
 Land sakes! dat word jes sound so sharp 
 
 Tell hit went clean through me. 
 
142 POEMS. 
 
 Dar's sumphen riz up in my throat 
 
 Dat nearly choked me dead; 
 My heart jes swelled an* swelled an' swdled 
 
 Tell hit jes felt lack lead. 
 
 I tried ter keep my temper down, 
 
 An* practice self-control; 
 But I'se so jellis uv dat gal 
 
 Tell I hurt ter my soul. 
 
 *'You is excused ternight," says she; 
 
 Don't bother 'round my do^, 
 Caze when I'se ready ter see you 
 
 I'll sho'ly let you know." 
 
 Now dat vexed me clear to my bones; 
 
 I jes got raving mad, 
 An' kicked dat do' dat kept me out, 
 
 Wid all de grit I had. 
 
 But oh! I lack to broke my foot, 
 
 Dat do' was cert'ny barred; 
 Caze I sho' tried ter kick hit down; 
 
 I sho'ly struck it hard. 
 
 Den jes ter tease me, Sally said — 
 Ter dat ole guy inside: 
 "Oh sweetheart, you'se my only love, 
 I'll always wid you 'bide." 
 
 Den he said, "Kiss me den ter prove 
 Pat you is mine always." 
 
POEMS. 14S 
 
 I be'ed right still ter cetch de sound, 
 An* through de crack I gazed. 
 
 I heard it, sho's you bone I did! 
 
 Seems lack I hear it still; 
 It jes shook me clean off de steps, 
 
 Pears lack I had er chill. 
 
 Bar's nothing stirring wid dat do,* 
 Hit felt lack hit wuz barred 
 
 Wid forty thousand pouns er lead, 
 Ter my progress retard. 
 
 I heard dem in dar sniggerling, 
 
 An' poking fun at me; 
 Oh you don no how bad I felt 
 
 In all dat misery. 
 
 Dat gal's papa come in from town, 
 Or from some other place; 
 
 An' wid er stare, he looked at me 
 Wid danger in his face. 
 
 Said he, ''Has you jes took my place 
 
 An' got it in yo charge? 
 It jes seems lack dat you's done let 
 
 Yo' britches git too large." 
 
 Den wid his walking stick, he drawed, 
 An* whaled me once or twice; 
 
 An' den said: "Go, you rascal you, 
 I guess dat will suffice." 
 
144 POEMS. 
 
 He would not let me 'sfplain ter him, 
 
 Nor beg his ^pologee; 
 But jes drawed back dat stick ergin 
 
 An' wore it out on me. 
 
 I tell you, I wuz glad ter git 
 
 Erway from dat ole men ; 
 You oughter been hid out somewhere 
 
 Ter see dis nigger ran. 
 
 "Erway !" said he, "you lazy scamp ! 
 
 Now don't come here no more, 
 I do not want you on my place, 
 
 Nor fooling 'round my do.' " 
 
 I sho'ly got de wust uv it, 
 Jes oner count uv Sal; 
 
 But I'll git even wit dat dude 
 Dat beat me out dat gal. 
 
 CAN'T FOOL 'EM. 
 
 Ah 'giter long from here, white man 
 
 You'se fooled me long er nuf, 
 I'ser bout done quit er drinking 
 
 Dat delaperdafting stuff. 
 You gimme de wust whiskey 
 
 Dat you'se got behind de bar; 
 And when I takes a drink ob it. 
 
 It sets me on er fire. 
 
POEMS, 145 
 
 Now Fse gwinter show yer all de grit, \ 
 
 Dat I hab down in my craw; \ 
 
 And you neanter tell me "shut up, i 
 
 Don't yer gib me any jaw;" 
 
 Fur I'se stood dis whiskey bizness ; 
 
 Tell I'se bouter got my fill, 
 
 And now I'll help ter vote it out, i 
 
 I know it's ginst yo will. \ 
 
 All de decent darkies tells me j 
 
 Dat dey's gwinter vote like me; \ 
 
 Dat dey's gwinter stop er fooling wid ] 
 
 De man dat sells whiskee; j 
 
 Case it takes all dey kin rake and scrape ] 
 
 Ter live er happy life, 
 Fur dey hafter work like Trojans, 
 
 Den can't satisfy dere wife. 
 
 Doc Williams s^d de udder night 
 
 Dat he stood firm and strong I 
 
 Er ginst de whiskey traffic and j 
 
 Eberything dats wrong. I 
 All de sloon niggers is awfully skeered, 
 
 Case Doctor talks diat way ; 
 
 Dey wanter spute his augerment, ; 
 
 But don't know whater siay. i 
 
 I 
 
 I walked down Thirteefnth street terday, ] 
 
 And looked upon a ba'l, ' : 
 
 And dare I seed a darkie drunk, i 
 
 And talkin bout his gal; j 
 
 i 
 i 
 
146 POEMS. 
 
 I slipped up close and looked at him, 
 
 And listen fur ter hear, 
 And bless my soul, dat darkie sed, 
 
 He'd sell his wife fur beer. 
 
 I went straight ter dat darkey's house, 
 
 And what you reggin I seed? 
 I seed his wife all closed in rags, 
 
 A fearful sight indeed. 
 De bed was propped up wid er box, 
 
 No paper on de wall ; 
 H's yard all growd up full er weeds, 
 
 And house er bout er fall. 
 
 Shur, white man, git er long from here. 
 
 And talk ter me on mo*; 
 Dis darkey's mine is made up now 
 Ter gib de sloon er blow. 
 
 pinted time, makase and come! 
 So I kin poll my vote. 
 
 1 paid my poll tax long ergo. 
 And kin efford ter dote. 
 
 Dem "anti" niggers should be cot 
 
 And tied up in er sac. 
 And hit one thousand lashes wid 
 
 Er strap right on de back; 
 De debil oughter git dem all 
 
 And roast dem in de fire; 
 Num mine de Lord will make dem come 
 
 Before de judgmen bar. 
 
POEMS, 147 
 
 FIDDLING JOE. 
 
 listen! to this story true; 
 You'll crack yo side fo I git thru; 
 You'll laugh clear out of breath I know, 
 When I tell you bout fiddling joe. 
 
 NiO year kin ever ketch er chune; 
 No man kin win yo heart so soon; 
 Er gal will natchly quit her beau, 
 And run clear off wid fiddling Joe. 
 
 His fingers quivers lack de strings; 
 His voice jes trembles when he sings. 
 Man, burn yo fiddle and yo bo, 
 Fur you can't play lack fiddling Joe. 
 
 No preacher kin control his feet; 
 No congregation keep de seat; 
 Dare foots will certny rap de floor 
 And keep good time wid fiddling Joe. 
 
 Ef yo gal tells you, "Let us go 
 And set er while wid fiddling Joe," 
 Jes laugh it off, and don't obey; 
 Fur Jce will win yo gal erway. 
 
 Joe went ter church de udder day, 
 And took his fiddle fur ter play; 
 He stood his distance from de door. 
 And tuned dat thing, and let it go. 
 
148 POEMS. 
 
 De ushers of de church come out, 
 And sed, *'We'll stO)p him dout er dout." 
 Dey all went stiiutting up ter him, 
 But Joe jes paid no mine ter dem. 
 
 De deacons said, "We'll stop de coon, 
 We'll run dat nigger to de moon." 
 Joe played so sweet tell Deacon Big 
 Jes squared hisself and danced er jig. 
 
 De preacher come out of de church 
 And sed, **Dis feller's jes to much;" 
 He carried his song book wid him. 
 And sung er ole furmiliar hymn. 
 
 Joe tuned his fiddle wid much glee, 
 And played, "Neiarer my God ter thee." 
 De preacher wrinkled up his face 
 And joined right in, and sung de base. 
 
 Den all de church come running out, 
 And Joe jes made dem sisters shout; 
 De sexton locked up every door. 
 And went ter hear dat fiddling Joe. 
 
 Now Joe had sense, he used his head ; 
 He stopped his instrument and sed: 
 "Now, brudders, sisters, hear my call; 
 I want er kleotion from you all." 
 
 Den fiddling Joe took off his hat, 
 And carried it to Deacon Fat, 
 
POEMS. 149 
 
 Who tole de members to dey face, 
 Ter come right on and do make ase. 
 
 So fiddling Joe got by alright; 
 He worked things well widout er fight; 
 Now I have told you what I know 
 Erbout dat auful fiddling Joe. 
 
 A TRIBUTE TO THE FT. WORTH COLORED 
 HIGH SCHOOL. 
 
 There is a charming, pleasing, ideal spot, 
 Upon which a great institution stands; 
 
 It occupies a spacious healthful lot, 
 Well kept and beautified by skillful hands. 
 
 No building of its kind for Negroes yet 
 Surpasses it. Not in the whole southland. 
 
 It stands to prove that what we want, we get ; 
 If we are worthy of whiat we demand. 
 
 One hundred forty-three by sixty-nine 
 Are the dimensions of this building grand; 
 
 Three stories high, modemly built and fine; 
 For centuries this school was built to stand. 
 
 Yea, twenty-five well-planned and cozy rooms. 
 
 All furnished with material the best; 
 Well kept by constant use of cloths and brooms, 
 
 In readiness far sanitary test. 
 
150 POEMS. 
 
 Examine well the manual training room; 
 
 It will an impression upon you make. 
 And will your very mind and soul consume, 
 
 While great passions of pride within you 'wake. 
 
 The work in this unique department shows 
 That well-trained heads and eyes, and skillful 
 hands 
 Were used to these wonderful things compose, 
 The names of which are deKsks and chairs and 
 stands. 
 
 Down in the kitchen next, and dining-room, 
 There meet Miss Patterson, the teacher gay, 
 
 And some of that well-prepared food consume; 
 But don't forget that there you cannot stay. 
 
 Ninety feet long by eighty feet across, 
 Is the chapel so beautiful, so grand; 
 
 With ample room and seats that will engross 
 Hundreds who come to their own minds ex- 
 pand. ! i 
 
 Then out upon the play-grounds you may see 
 Hundreds of boys and girls with laughter gay. 
 
 The beating heart of each is filled with glee, 
 While joyfully they with er.ch other play. 
 
 Various exercises are employed: 
 
 Football and swing, tennis and basket ball, 
 
 No student on the grounds is made devoid, 
 But each has privilege to try them all. 
 
POEMS. 151 
 
 When standing far away to view the scene, 
 What thrilling passions stir the gloomy soul! 
 
 The mind goes back to old school days serene, 
 And hardly can you your own self control. 
 
 A faculty of teachers twenty-two, 
 
 Five able men who hold college degrees; 
 
 And seventeen others with merits true. 
 
 No set of teachers are loved more than these. 
 
 The principal, Professor I. M. Terrell, 
 
 For thirty years this institution's guide, 
 
 Has side-tracked for no misfortune nor peril, 
 But kept the sword of courage by his side. 
 
 He met his oppositions face to face. 
 
 And stood for right, though many times alone ; 
 He made a 'asting standard for his race, 
 
 And by this standard it is marching on. 
 
 But ah! that true help-meet stood by his side, 
 And in the stormy seasons cheered him up; 
 
 O'er rugged roads she was his faithful guide. 
 And drank with him from many a bitter cup. 
 
 Now may success his many efforts crown 
 With golden gems all sparkling bright and 
 new. 
 
 I know 'tis not his aim to seek renown. 
 But to mankind and to himself be true. 
 
152 POEMS, 
 
 JAP'S ANKLE EXCURSION. 
 
 Well, I'se bout rested now, and mer nerves is 
 alright ergin. Now 1*11 percede ter tell yer bouf 
 dat Ankle Excursion dat I had last week. You 
 see Fse been working fer one certain white man, 
 seven years, fur six dolars er week, and one meal 
 er day, cluden Sunday ; but every time we have er 
 payday, he wants me ter trade haf er mer money 
 fur grub. So ebei'y week he swades me to trade 
 three ob dem "Gods we trust" wid him, and dat 
 jes leaves me jes only erbout three ob them 
 "Gods we trust'* ter hab a little fun wid. I 
 swallowered dat bitter pill er long time) tell last 
 week. Jes before pay day, I got mer craw fuller 
 grit, an mer eyes fuller red, an mer mouf fuller 
 nerve, an when Boss come tor pay me off, he 
 foun mer lip® sticking out lacker faucet on er 
 lasses ba*l. Den he sed ter me, "What's ter mat- 
 ter wid you, Jap?*' An I tole him dat I wanted 
 all mer money dis ebening, caze I had er plenty 
 grub at home dout buying eny more fur er long 
 time, an mer wife tole me not ter bring eny 
 more grub dar, but pour de whole six dollars in 
 her lap temight, caze she would do her own trad- 
 ing from dis on. Boss didn't lack dat much, 
 but I didn't care, caze I'se been cackerlating on 
 telling him bout dis matter er long time. So 
 fust one word den er niuder, brought de anner- 
 mosity ter er dangus pint. Den Boss got mad 
 an called me one ob dem black things, den mer 
 ashes come ter de suffis. Den I told him dat he 
 
POEMS. 153 
 
 had me ter pay right dis minit, or beat me run- 
 ning. I knowed dat I could whoop him from de 
 shoulders, caze he didn't weigh but one hundid 
 and twenty pouns, an' I*se been weighing two 
 hundrid ebery since Fse seventeen years old. Fse 
 jes fixing ter tell Boss ter squar hissef 
 fer er fight, an* he hit me squar cudab 
 in de mouf and stopped dat word right 
 'tween mer lips an' teeth. But dat didn't stop 
 me, fur I jes grabbed him up lacker baby, an 
 give him er good shaking. But let me tell you, 
 I'se skeered ter turn Boss er loose, caze his face 
 got red and he gin ter cuss lacker demon. Finely 
 all mer nerves settled in mer feets an I got so 
 weak, tell I let Boss drap squar cudab on de 
 groun, an mashed his nose; mouf an chin. Den 
 Boss got up an reached back an got his six 
 shooter an whaled me over de head four times, 
 one lick right after emudder, den stot so close 
 ter my head tell mer head cotch on fire; den he 
 tole me ter look down de bar'l ob dat gun ter 
 see what I could see ; an great day in de mornin ! 
 My eyes got on clipse, an peers lack I seed er 
 funeral persession wid me in front. Not satis- 
 fied wid de way he's doing me he lack ter m^e 
 me run mer fool self ter death. He made me 
 turn mer face terwards home, pinted dat six 
 shooter at me, an told me ter git! Den shot so 
 close ter my head tell de powder burnt mer face. 
 Well, I reached up an got mer sky piece, folded 
 it in mer hand, mer feets was ready,fur I'se al- 
 
154 POEMS. 
 
 ready barefooted, took on more steam, pulled de 
 throddle open, said, "Yesser, Boss." Den the 
 Ankle Excursion begin. 
 
 Now you talk erbout ankling, an yer 
 cannon ball, an yer race horses, an yer automo- 
 biles, an yer airships, but I'se er century er head 
 ob dem things in making fast time. I raised 
 so much dust tell I heard de folkes dat lived er 
 long dat lain, say, ''Showly, showly, dis must be 
 er sacklone.'* Chickens, hogs, dogs an guineas 
 all left home when dey seed me coming. Horses 
 an cows jes broke out er de lot, an run clear off 
 when dey heard me coming. Chilluns jes run in 
 the house an crawled under de bed. Pudy soon, 
 I heard Boss shoot ergin. Well, dat fust ank- 
 ling that I done wuz jes an interduction to de 
 ankling dat I done after I heard Boss shooti de 
 last time. I come ter er river dat had er bridge 
 ercross it, an mer right foot struck dat bridge 
 middle ways, but mer lelt found biziness on de 
 udder side. After er few ups an downs, I got 
 er clear righterway home. Den I got in er lane 
 dat wuz as smoothe an level as er floor; den I 
 stretch mer arms an sailed lack er guinea. 
 
 When I got in sight of my pint of view, dar 
 my wife and chilluns wuz waiting fur me; I 
 heard one of my chilluns say : "Here come papa,'* 
 an erbout eir halfer second after dat, I heard er 
 nudder one of my chilluns say : "Yoner go papa." 
 But I jes p?st by home. Den de lain made er 
 turn, but I did nort turn wid it, I kept straight 
 
POEMS, 155 
 
 on through er corn field and made ears of com 
 whiz an ziine before me. I finely stopped in er 
 little town twenty miles from home, an when 
 it got dark, I started fur home, erriving there 
 erbout midnight. I rapped on de door right easy, 
 and Susana, my wife, said, "Is dat you Jap?" 
 den I sed, "Dis is what's left ob me." And she 
 sed: "Whar's de rest ob you?" I tole her dat 
 I lost de rest ob me in sweat an blood. She start- 
 ed to ask me some more questions, but I tole her 
 ter fix de bed, an don't bother me fur four days, 
 unless she seen Boss coming. So dat ended dat 
 Ank'e Excursion right dar. 
 
 LITERARY INDIGESTION. 
 
 I'se jes from de college, an mer head is fuller 
 all kinds er stufl^. But let me tell yer dat stuff 
 aint digested yit, an I know it's not gwinter stay 
 on my brains, caze it jes won't soke in. I'se 
 used all kinds ob remedies. I'se tried de "book 
 under de head" remedy, de *' set up tell mid- 
 night" tonic, an de "git up fore day" reh^ef, ana 
 dey aint kored me yit. I'se bout ter side dat 
 sumphen's wrong wid dis upper story. It's big 
 emough, an pears lack it's fuller sumphen. I 
 guess I mus got de guitar cb de brains. Fesser 
 sed sumphen erbout de gray matter; de more 
 yer hab ob dem de wizer yer is; but pears lack 
 ter me I aint got none at all. I had some when 
 I went ter dat school, but I guiess dey all muster 
 turned black. Fesser told me ter take er little 
 
156 POEMS. 
 
 jymnistic exercise, maybe dat would kore dis in- 
 digestion ; I did, but it didn't do me no good, caze 
 I played looperty loop, turned summersets, skint 
 de cat and dog too, but all dat jjnnnictics put 
 tergether didn't help me er bit. Caze I picked 
 up my silver g^verment, an tried ter memerize 
 de fourteenth an fifteenth menment, so I could 
 make er big perlitical speech onde nineteenth ob 
 June, but bless mer soul, I furgot it faster den 
 I looked at it; it jes wouldn't stay on my brains. 
 Well I picked up my dictionary, an tried ter find 
 er word dat means what's ails me; I rambled 
 ^n rambled, an rambled, an bime by, I found er 
 word dat sed diarrhoea, but I let dat word 
 erlone, caze it had too much dying in it fur me. 
 Well, I found emudder word dat sed, insane, 
 an it had de same meanings dat crazy had, den 
 I sed, slowly dat's jes whats de matter wid me, 
 Fse erbout crazy. Den I got uneasy an went 
 ter de glass aji looked at myself ter see ef I 
 favored dat crazy man diat I seed at de sylum, 
 an bless mer soul dar wasn't much diffunts in 
 de looks ob us, de only diffunts I could see was, 
 dat he donno howter act when company comes 
 ter see him, an I does. Why dat scamp jes sed 
 all kiner bad words before my best gal. Now 
 I'se skeered dat ef I don't git dis literary indi- 
 gestion kored puddy soon, I'll be jes like him. 
 But let me git back ter de pint ergin ; I picked up 
 mer histry, an read bout de battle ob Bunkers 
 Hill ten times, one time right after emudder. 
 
POEMS, 157 
 
 den I shet mer eyes right tight an tried ter re- 
 call dat battle, but bless mer soul, ter save mer 
 life I couldn't tell er thing erbout it. I roached 
 mer hair back and wriggled erbout in mer seat, 
 but save mer life I couldnU call dat battle ter 
 mine. It jes got erway from me ah got on 
 ^'Twinkle, twinkle, little star," an I jes couldn't 
 git it off tell Fesser come ter mer room an tole 
 me dat I had ter saw two cords er wood an stay 
 on de campus ten days fur sturbing peace. I 
 ast him how did I sturb de peace? An he tole 
 me dat ebery student in de building had rushed 
 ter de door trying ter locate dat little star I'se 
 talking bout. Well, after Fesser left, I picked up 
 mer rithmetic an tried ter work out some zam- 
 ples, but dar wuz so much wood an campus on 
 mer mine tell dar was no room fur de rithmetic. 
 Finely de whole biziness turned ter chloroform, 
 an put me fast ter sleep ; an dar I wen ter dream- 
 ing bout dat wood an campus. I cared on so 
 in mer sleep tell I woke merself up jes in time 
 ter miss some more wood an campus, fur Fesser 
 opened de door right quick an looked at me lack 
 er hawk at er cheekin; den he sed: "I muster 
 been mustaken." An I sed, "Dat's right, Fesser." 
 Well puddy soon after dat I had ter cut dat wood 
 an spend dem ten miserable days on de campus, 
 but I commence ter cackerlating on mer staying 
 at dat school eny longer. **Well," sed I, "what's de 
 use me staying gitting more ter digist, an can't di- 
 gist dis I got?" So I tole Fesser dat I must go 
 home, an he sed: "Why, what's de matter, Sam?" 
 
158 POEMS. 
 
 I tole him dat mer money's done give out but 
 Tse gwine home an work harder an come back 
 next session. Sol got erway on dat piterful story, 
 an now I'se at home ergin, an I'se gwinter git 
 me er mule, an er farm, an go ter work, an raise 
 cotton, an corn, an pe^as, an cheekins, hogs an 
 chilkms, fur dat's de only kore I know erbout 
 fur literary indigestion. 
 
 PARSON IKEY'S REPORT OF THE WORLD'S 
 BAPTIST CONORESS. 
 
 Well, bruddes and sisters ob de much beloved 
 and far-reaching denomination, it fords me wid 
 de unmeasuigerable mont ob ipleger ter persent 
 some laffererble and comical facts dat I cotch 
 at de World Baptist Congress in de city ob Phiiy- 
 delfer. 
 
 Fustly, I must say dat yalFs gwinter ceve er 
 blessing fur sending yo Ibving an God-sent pas- 
 ter ter Congress. But dem stingy darkies dat 
 wouldn't tribit nothing ter help send de paster 
 off, so dat he might recruit his rundown self 
 and add more power ter his voice, de Lord's 
 gwinter make dem lose what little dey's got. 
 Now dat's de truf, eaze I drempt dat I seed dem 
 very jdarkieis begging sumfphen tjeat. I know 
 who yer is, and ef de Lord don't pay yer, I will. 
 
 As I'se gwinter say, dat wuz er great meeting. 
 Ebe'ry nation under de sun wuz dar. De man 
 in de moon woulder been dar, but I guess he 
 
POEMS. 159 
 
 muster been kept bizzy burning bresh, so dat de 
 udder brudders could have moon shiny nights. 
 I declare, some ob de ugglest delegates I eber 
 seed wuz dar; some ob dem neber will git ter 
 heaven, caze it is written: '*God don't love 
 ugly." 
 
 We carried er healthy bunch er preachers 
 from Texas, sho's you born; but some ob dem 
 wuz de greenest set ob darkies I eber seen. 
 Dey's got er plenty sense when dey's in Texas, 
 but la me, de futher east dey got, de less sense 
 dey had. Dey tells me dat de east wind fects 
 Texas darkies, and now I bleve it. 
 
 Prominant ermong de Texas delegates wuz: 
 Parson Walker, P. ob B. M. and E. C; Parson 
 Heavyweight, S. of M. ; Parson Slowlooking, 
 Pastor; Fesser Yalleralkin, Editor, and Fesser 
 Skinnie, a famous B. Y. P. U. President. Now 
 I tell yer, er whole lots ob dem preachers wuzn't 
 invited ter dat Congress; dey jes butted in. 1 
 tell yer ernudder thing, some ob our preachers is 
 alis splitting dere thoats erginst de Jim Crow 
 law, and bless my soul, when dey gits whr.r dar's 
 no sicher law or color line, dey aint satisfied, fur 
 when dey set down ter de table ter eat wid de 
 white folkes dey look lack nervis wrecks. One 
 preacher from Texas jes wouldn't enjoy dat 
 privilege after gitting it. Fur he jes took his 
 little bread and meat in his hands and went inter 
 de kitchen wid de cooks and desh washers and 
 pot rustler ; den de pot rustler sed ter him : "Say, 
 
160 POEMS. 
 
 Parson, what yer doin down here, dis-aint no din- 
 ing-room?" Den de preacher, wid er mouf 
 fuller taters and meat, sed : " Jes tend ter yo biz- 
 ness. Bud, and let minsses erlone; I see now dat 
 youse er biggerty nigger, and ef youse down 
 souf dey'd linch you fore breakfast." Now dat 
 goes ter show yer dat he wuz er lion in de kitchen 
 and er mouse in de dining-room. 
 
 Dar*s ernudder one of dem Texas preachers 
 dat made me so shame tell Fse shame ter tell de 
 people dat I'se from Texas. Dis feller goes fur 
 one of Texas' close observers of de letter aaid 
 spirit. Dey give him no time ter speak in dat 
 meeting, but he jes wanted ter be seen so bad 
 tell he jes raised up enyhow and sed: "Mr. Presi- 
 dent, dis is Dr. Knowall from Texas ; may I have 
 de privilege of being supplied wider program of 
 dis meeting " And bless mer soul, he wuz in- 
 formed dat he had all de programs ob de whole 
 session in his hand. Now sicher feller as dat 
 O'ughter have his license, plumer and title taken 
 erway from him fur dat's er dangus^ feller* 
 
 De rule of dat meeting wuz, dat no one could 
 speak over ten minutes, but dat Booker T. Wash- 
 ington jes hypotized de 'v^hole thing and spoke 
 long as he wanted to. 
 
 Did you say, "Whar wuz I?" I*se dar. De 
 big preachers didn't pay me no mine, caze I 
 couldnU say dem big "highferluten jawbreakers, 
 but I'se the secret secretary of dat whole biziness 
 Jes de samf. 
 
POEMS. 161 
 
 Now I'll finish dis report next Sunday, caze 
 its time tier take up kerlection. Fd lack fur all 
 de members ter storm de paster, caze de grub 
 is gitting slim round erbout my premises. 
 
 FRANK AND THE BULL DOG. 
 
 Laffing is cetching an hanging is stretching. 
 Yau may laff at me caze dat bull dog bit me dis 
 er way, but youse lible ter have de same speri- 
 ence some day. Spose you wanter know erbout 
 it so you kin bust yo side, do yer? Well, Fse 
 gwinter tell yer all erbout it ef you stop lafflng 
 and look seeinis, caze dis is er seerus peacer bizi- 
 ness. You see Fse er coachman ob dat high 
 order, dat is, I wears er silk hat an er long coat 
 wid brass buttons up an down de front an tail, 
 an on de sleevteB, an I drives two led oulilid 
 mares hitched to er fine victoree, an I has ter 
 set up high, an de white folkes sets down low, 
 an I has ter hold mer neck stiff, an look digner- 
 fied. 
 
 Well, Fse gwinter tell you bout dat bull-dog 
 now. You see, I jes come in from driving de 
 white folkes yistiddy morning, an Miss Mary 
 sunt me down ter Miss Williams' house ter carry 
 er note; dat jes suited me caze mer gal cooked 
 fur Miss Williams, so in order dat she might give 
 me a good inspection, I wrote mer unerform 
 down dare. Now you know Miss Williams is 
 got er big bull dog wider head ez big ez er lasses 
 ba*l an his toothes so big tell he can't shet his 
 
162 POEMS, 
 
 mouf. When I got ter de gate I hollud, hello! 
 and somebody dat I couldn't see, said : "Come in, 
 de dog is tied! Come in, I say; old Brisco ia 
 tied!" And den dey told me ter tie de gate ter 
 keep de calf from gitting out. Well, I tell yer, 
 dat last thing dat she sed erbout tying dat gate 
 didn't suit me er bit, caze it made me feel 
 nervus. I didn't feel safe er tall wid dat gate 
 tied, but I didn't wanter act hardheaded; so I 
 went slipping terwards de steps sorter briefly; 
 den I beared dat dog er growling, an it sounded 
 lack er thunder storm; I stopped right still, but 
 dat same voice sed: ''Come in, he's tied;" an 
 bless mer soul, jes ez I got ter de steps dat same 
 voice said: ''who-o-ee! sickem, Brisco! whoo-ee! 
 sichem, sichem, Brisco !" Well I knowed de race 
 wuz on, an er hot one too. De bull dog wuzent 
 in sight, an perhaps I mouter goter way ef it 
 hadn't been fur dat deblish little fice; he traced 
 de bull dog's tention, an jes ez I'se boutter gitter 
 way dat scamp cotch me by KXij puddy driving 
 coat wid er death holt, an ginter swing back, but 
 I tell yer Is'e caying dat dog er merry gate tell 
 I stepped on sumphen slick an fell flat on mer 
 stumuck. Den dat dog turned loose mer coat 
 an gotter mouf cramming full of my leg, an jes 
 look lack he went ter sleep. Tell yer dat dog 
 wuzent making no fuss, but I wuz ; couldn't no- 
 body do nothing wid dat scamp. Finely, my 
 gal, de cook, went over to de drug store in de 
 next block an got some "high life" an poured 
 
POEMS. 163 
 
 it all on dat scamp^s head, an dat's de key dat 
 unlocked dat big vice, sho's you born; it made 
 him keep more fuss den I did. I think dat 
 stuff stroyed three-thirds of his ambition. I 
 hope it'll stroy his whole life. I never could git 
 my gal ter say she loved me, but actions speaks 
 louder den words fur she couldn't er done but 
 one thing bettem ter make dat dog turn my leg 
 er loose, an dat wuz, ter tell me dat she loved 
 me well ernuff ter marry me, and dat bizness 
 will come up jes ez soon ez my leg gits well. 
 
 Now, who do you reckon such dat dog on me? 
 It wuz dat deblish parrit ; an I'se gwinter give 
 him er cracker wid some dope on it fust chance 
 I git. So ef you hear of a dead parrit in dis 
 naberhood, wy don't be serprized. 
 
 HOW JIM'S GHOST STORY ENDED. 
 
 Umph, umph, umph! Well, well, well! I 
 never woulder thought it. As long as I been 
 coming by dat graveyard, I'se never had sicher 
 spearence as dat berfore. Folkes neanter tell 
 me dat dar's no ghostes, fur im knows better den 
 dat, caze I knows dat I'se had two hours' war- 
 fare wid dat white man dat committed sooeyside, 
 an I had ter help ter tote him home. His name 
 was Mr. iRunerbout, an dat's de right name fur 
 him, fur he's certny run me erboiit dis night. 
 Well, de way it was, I'se down ter mer friend, 
 John's, house, dat's five miles on de u^lder side 
 
164 POEMS. 
 
 of de white folkes graveyard, an I stayed dar 
 tell ieben er'clock, an John says ter me, says he: 
 "Jim, aint you skeered ter go by dat graveyard 
 ternight? You'd better stay wid me an go home 
 enermoming." "Ah, no," says I; "Fse not 
 skeered or no dead man, case ef he*s in heaven, 
 he don't wanter come here no mo, but ef de 
 devil's got him, he can't come here no mo, case 
 he's shet up in er hot ubben," So I started out 
 fur home, specting to rive dar bout twelve er 
 er'clock, jes one hour's walk. When I got in 
 sight er de graveyard, jes ter keep mysef from 
 gitting lonesome, I ginter whistle, "€otton-eyed 
 Joe," but in spiter all I could do or say, I couldnt 
 keep back all er dat ciuis feelings ter save my 
 life. I got so nervus tell I jest couldn't whistle 
 dat song. De hair on mer head ginter unrole, 
 an straighten out. I tell yer, I felt jes lack dat 
 sumphen's gwinter happen. Truth er nuff, 
 sumphen did happen, you bet yer boots it did. 
 I tried ter keep from looking over in dat grave- 
 yard, but I jes couldn't help it ter save mer life; 
 an when I looked, behold dar stood up right in 
 plain view dat very white man dat committed 
 sooeyside. Den I sed ter him, "Howdy do, Mr. 
 Runnerbout?" But he didn't say er word. I tell 
 yer it's er good thing he didn't, case dar'd er 
 been ernudder' funnel right dar. Well, I decided 
 dat dat muster been his statue dey made ter 
 memerize him. Den I gin ter move off fur 
 home, kinder looking back oner sly, an I ginter 
 
POEMS, 165 
 
 step off sorter briefly, but it looked lack de man, 
 graveyard and all wuz following me. I couldn't 
 git rid of dem, so I decided ter run erway from 
 de whole biziness. I started out making air- 
 ship time. Well, I run an run tell I didn't see 
 nothing of him. I decided dat I had outrun him. 
 But bless mer soul, when I got nearly ter mer 
 gate, behold dar stood dat same man at mer 
 gate waiting fur me. Den I started round ter 
 slip in de back gate, but behold dar stood dat 
 same man right in mer back gate waiting fur 
 me. Den I decided dat I would go ter one of 
 mer neighbors' house ter spend de night, so off 
 I put, but jes ez I got in sight of de house, I 
 seed Mr. Runnerbout standing at dat gate. But 
 dis time he started terwards me, an at de same 
 time gitting bigger an bigger. Now I tell you 
 de fastest running on record wuz done last night 
 tween one on three er'clock by me an dat 
 ghost; he jes kept closer nough ter keep me in 
 notion er running. Ever now an den peers lack 
 I could hear him say, "Run, Jimmy, run, less 
 haber little fun." I want habing much fun, but 
 I tell you Fse running. He run me back ter his 
 place er biziness, which is degraveyard, an he 
 run me right thru it, but I tell yer, I show 
 wrecked his place er biziness, fur I guess I must 
 er misplaced erbout fifty tombstones an cedar 
 trees; but enyhow he never followed me eny 
 futher after he got ter de graveyard. I guess 
 he muster went in ter take his rest; he certny 
 
166 POEMS, 
 
 needed it as well as myself, but I never stopped 
 running till I got home. And hardly stopped 
 den, fur 1 run de rest of de night in mer sleep. 
 Did you say dat wuz you? Wy, Rube, was dat 
 you running me dat way? Well, you certny 
 favored Mr. Runnerbout. 
 
 A WATERMELON CONTEST. 
 
 Haw, haw, haw! It's er shame de way I done 
 Jim bout dat water millun, fur Jim is er tickler 
 f ren er mine. He saved me from drowning once, 
 an he kept a f eler from licking me ernudder time. 
 An he got my gal to reconjoin herself back 
 ter me ergin in addition plus me and her, 
 but let me percede ter tell yer bout dat terrible 
 watermillun contest. Yer see I went out joy 
 walking one morning, an chance ter come hy old 
 Bob Battleham's watermillun patch. I was 
 very thirsty, fur I had walked erbout ten miles 
 widout much joy. So I set down oner log wid 
 mer legs crossed close ter de fence speckerlat- 
 ing on dem watermilluns. I wouldn't git over 
 in de patch right erway case it wuz too close ter 
 de house; an besides ole Bob had er big bull dog 
 an er fist loading shotgun. I knowed de dog 
 would bite, an I knowed de ole man would shoot, 
 so I made myself be still fur er while. 
 
 Puddy soon I seed mer Fren Jim come erlong 
 an cast his two big eyes in dat same patch er 
 milkms. I beed right still an watched him case 
 
POEMS. 167 
 
 I didn't want him ter see me. But I lackter laffed 
 out when Jim turned his head sideways an stuck 
 it thru er crack, an after he found dat he couldn't 
 git his body thru he turned his head straight 
 an tried ter pull dat empty cokenut out, but 
 dat feller lackter broke his neck square oif. He 
 tried ter holler, but he wuz pulling back so hard 
 tell he couldn't open his mouf. After while he 
 quit puling an wenter thinking jes what he 
 orter done at fust. Den he turnt his head back 
 sideways an pulled it out jes as easy. Den I 
 heard him say: ''What er fool I wuz;" an I lack 
 ter said: "Youse dat same fool yit." But let 
 me tell yer, while dat feller's head v/as thru dat 
 crack he spotted dat same watermillun dat I 
 picked out fur mersef. I heard him say dat he 
 would come back dar dat night bout twelve 
 er'clock an git dat watermillun. Den I sed ter 
 merself : *'Yes, I'll meet you here too, Bud." So 
 Jim went on home wid his skint neck, an puddy 
 soon I went too. I went home an lolled roun' 
 dar all day thinking bout dat watermillun. Dat 
 wuz de longest day I eber seed in mer life. 
 But finely de time come an I wenter dat patch 
 erbout half past leben er'clock in order ter beat 
 Jim dar, but when I got dar Jim wuz jes gittin 
 over de fence into de patch. I squarted down 
 in de fence corner an watched him. 
 
 He went sneaking over ter dat same millun 
 dat I spotted, an stooped down ter pull it off; an 
 it seem lack he wuz breaking mer heartstring 
 how misserable I felt! I hated ter speak ter 
 
168 POEMS. 
 
 him, case he'd know mer voice; so I growled 
 lack dat bull dog. Den Jim got up aii stretched 
 his neck lacker wild goose; den I growled ergin, 
 an thunderation ! you never seed sicher running 
 in all de days of yer life, an me needer. Jim 
 fell down an broke ^r millun all ter pieces wid 
 his head, den he got his footses wrapped up in 
 dem vines and kept so much fuss tell he made 
 de man's dog bark sho nough; den dat feller 
 broke loose from dem vines an run erginst de 
 fence an jes ruint it ferever. He jes run clear 
 off widder vine roun his neck, an Mr. Battleham 
 an dat bull dog right in behind him. Well, I 
 took advantage of de absence of mer most dread- 
 ed enemies an got dat watermillun and fotch 
 it home. An now I'se gwinter invite Jim ter 
 help me eat it; dat is, ef he's able ter come. Den 
 I'll tease him de rest of his life bout dat water- 
 millun contest. 
 
 BOB'S VACATION. 
 
 Back ter town ergin, "I juckles," an ebery- 
 thing certny looks strange ter old Bob. I jes 
 stayed one night, but had some strange speri- 
 ences. I'se been ter East Texas, erbout ten miles 
 from Marshall, ter see mer kinfolkes. It had 
 ben erbout twenty years since I'se dar; an ter 
 mer surprize, things aint changed er bit. Peo- 
 ple's still plowing wid er ox an mule tergether, 
 still drinking licker, an voting anti tickets. But 
 
POEMS, 169 
 
 in spite ob all er dat, de folkes amer still stick- 
 ing ter dat ole time er ligun an dem ole ring 
 plays. But I tell yer, dar am some of dem cullid 
 folkes in an eround Marshall dat am **highfer- 
 lutin/' but I'se talkin bout whar Tse raised. 
 
 I landed dar oner Sadday night, spent er 
 missible night at mer brudder-in-law*s oner 
 straw bed. I'se sorry I went ter bed, caze de 
 sketers, fleas an bed rousters, my sakes er lise, 
 jes stuck daggers in me all night long. Dey all 
 would bite an say nothing but de sketer; ebery- 
 time he'd come ter take er bite he'd sing, "City 
 meat's sweet, come on let's eat," an I said, "Yas, 
 it won't be sweet long if I stay here, fur you'll 
 suck all the sweetness out." 
 
 Well, day broke and I broke too; dat 
 is, I run outer dat room an run smack down ter 
 de creek fore I stopped, an jumped in and brought 
 mersef back ter life. Pudy soon after dat, I 
 heard de breakfast horn er blowing dat ole fer- 
 miliar tune, calling me ter breakfast; so I put 
 on mer two peaces an expressed mersef ter de 
 house. When I got dar. Sis Susanna Jane ast 
 me whar I'd been, an I told her dat I had been 
 doing de fish act. Den she called me inter de 
 family prayer-me<eting, an we all knelt down, 
 an Parson Ben, dat had also spent de night dar. 
 led de prayer. And as luck would hab it, I 
 bowed wid mer eyes terwards de table wid all 
 de grub on it. De Parson prayed so long tell I 
 had ter ast er little boy dat wuz bowing close 
 
170 POEMS. 
 
 ter me how long did de Parson genly pray; an 
 he ast me ef he had sed enything erbout de river 
 ob Jorden yit. And I sed: "De devil, no;*^ den 
 he told me when de Parson got ter de river ob 
 Jorden dat he wuz jes haf way. Den I sed ter 
 him, dat I speck when de Parson did git ter de 
 river ob Jorden I'd be through eating. I looked 
 eround ter see ef dar wuz any sine ob him end- 
 ing dat prayer, but bless mer soul, dat scamp 
 had got back on his hunkles wid his head rared 
 back ter de lowf ob de house an er slapping his 
 hands, an er sweating an er foaming at de mouf 
 lacker mad dog; an I heard him say dat he felt 
 lack praying all day. Den I looked at mer brud- 
 der-in-law an sister, an deys done got haippy. 
 Well, I got tied er dat fulishness, an whilse dey 
 wuz enjoying de spirit, I'se enjoying mersef eat- 
 ing breakfast. Now let me tell yer bout dat 
 breakfast; dar wuz fist biskits, dat is, biskits 
 squeezed off with yer hand; den rolem round an 
 hit dem er hard lick ter shape dem up, den put 
 'em in de uben an when dey's done dey's big as 
 er loaf er light bread. Den dar wuz er big pan full 
 er cheekin on de table an er poun er butter at 
 ebery plate an er big jug er lasses, an er big jar 
 er simmon beer, an er keg er sider. Den dey 
 had taters tewed, roasted, baked an fried. Wait 
 dat aint all yit; dey had hog jole an crackling 
 bread, an er strong gallun er coffee setting at de 
 Parson's plate, an er big desh er saushut dat 
 Vs^as kored in shucks. Well, I jes propped mer- 
 
POEMS. 171 
 
 sef an went ter eating; but ebery once an er 
 while rd give de litle boy er hand out ter keep 
 him from pertraying me. After while Parson 
 Ben got ter de river ob Jorden an I heard him 
 say, "Cross me over in er cam time." Den he 
 opened his eyes and seed me eating, an I let you 
 know dat preacher ended dat prayer right mid- 
 dle ways Jorden and never did git over. He jes 
 rose up an ast me what de devil was I doing; an 
 I told him dat I wuz eating my dinner caze I 
 never had eny breakfast. Den mer sister an 
 brudder-in-law opened dare eyes ter see what 
 wuz de matter, an dey tole me dat dey wnz act- 
 ually shame ob me, an ef dat's de way Tse 
 gwinter do, dey didn't want me ter come dar 
 enymore. Parson Ben finely got eberything al- 
 right when he tole dem dat city niggers didn't 
 know what er square meal wuz nohow. After 
 dat biziness got pudy shaky w^'d ule; so I de- 
 cided dat de city was de best place fur me since 
 I had killed mersef in de country. So off I put, 
 an here I nm. 
 
APR 25 1913 
 
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