Fifty years & Other Poems Part 13

Wen dat darky riz, well raly, I felt kinder bad fu' him; He had bust dem cheap sto' britches f'om de center to de rim.

All de plug hat dat wuz lef' him wuz de brim aroun' his neck, Smear'd wid mud f'om top to bottom, well, he wuz a sight, I 'speck.

Wuz de folks a-laffin'? Well, su', I jes sholy thought dey'd bus'; Wuz Sam laffin'? 'Twuz de fus' time dat I evah heah'd him cuss.

W'ile Sam slink'd off thoo de backwoods I walk'd slowly home wid Lize, W'en I axed her jes one question der wuz sump'n in her eyes

Made me know der wuz no need o' any answer bein' said, An' I felt jes like de whole world wuz a-spinnin' 'roun' ma head.

So I said, "Lize, w'en we marry, mus' I weah some sto'-bought clo'es?"

She says, "Jeans is good enough fu' any po' folks, heaben knows!"

_If homely virtues draw from me a tune In happy jingle or a half-sad croon; Or if the smoldering future should inspire My hand to strike the seer's prophetic lyre; Or if injustice, brutishness and wrong Should make a blasting trumpet of my song; O G.o.d, give beauty and strength--truth to my words, Oh, may they fall like sweetly cadenced chords, Or burn like beacon fires from out the dark, Or speed like arrows, swift and sure, to the mark._