The Chinese Nightingale and Other Poems Part 11

I

"Down cellar," said the cricket, "Down cellar," said the cricket, "Down cellar," said the cricket, "I saw a ball last night, In honor of a lady, In honor of a lady, In honor of a lady, Whose wings were pearly-white.

The breath of bitter weather, The breath of bitter weather, The breath of bitter weather, Had smashed the cellar pane.

We entertained a drift of leaves, We entertained a drift of leaves, We entertained a drift of leaves, And then of snow and rain.

But we were dressed for winter, But we were dressed for winter, But we were dressed for winter, And loved to hear it blow In honor of the lady, In honor of the lady, In honor of the lady, Who makes potatoes grow, Our guest the Irish lady, The tiny Irish lady, The airy Irish lady, Who makes potatoes grow.

II

"Potatoes were the waiters, Potatoes were the waiters, Potatoes were the waiters, Potatoes were the band, Potatoes were the dancers Kicking up the sand, Kicking up the sand, Kicking up the sand, Potatoes were the dancers Kicking up the sand.

Their legs were old burnt matches, Their legs were old burnt matches, Their legs were old burnt matches, Their arms were just the same.

They jigged and whirled and scrambled, Jigged and whirled and scrambled, Jigged and whirled and scrambled, In honor of the dame, The n.o.ble Irish lady Who makes potatoes dance, The witty Irish lady, The saucy Irish lady, The laughing Irish lady Who makes potatoes prance.

III

"There was just one sweet potato.

He was golden brown and slim.

The lady loved his dancing, The lady loved his dancing, The lady loved his dancing, She danced all night with him, She danced all night with him.

Alas, he wasn't Irish.

So when she flew away, They threw him in the coal-bin, And there he is today, Where they cannot hear his sighs And his weeping for the lady, The glorious Irish lady, The beauteous Irish lady, Who Gives Potatoes Eyes."

The Booker Washington Trilogy

A Memorial to Booker T. Washington

I. Simon Legree

A Negro Sermon. (To be read in your own variety of negro dialect.)

Legree's big house was white and green.

His cotton-fields were the best to be seen.

He had strong horses and opulent cattle, And bloodhounds bold, with chains that would rattle.

His garret was full of curious things: Books of magic, bags of gold, And rabbits' feet on long twine strings.

BUT HE WENT DOWN TO THE DEVIL.

Legree he sported a bra.s.s-b.u.t.toned coat, A snake-skin necktie, a blood-red shirt.

Legree he had a beard like a goat, And a thick hairy neck, and eyes like dirt.

His puffed-out cheeks were fish-belly white, He had great long teeth, and an appet.i.te.

He ate raw meat, 'most every meal, And rolled his eyes till the cat would squeal.

His fist was an enormous size To mash poor n.i.g.g.e.rs that told him lies: He was surely a witch-man in disguise.

BUT HE WENT DOWN TO THE DEVIL.

He wore hip-boots, and would wade all day To capture his slaves that had fled away.

BUT HE WENT DOWN TO THE DEVIL.

He beat poor Uncle Tom to death Who prayed for Legree with his last breath.

Then Uncle Tom to Eva flew, To the high sanctoriums bright and new; And Simon Legree stared up beneath, And cracked his heels, and ground his teeth: AND WENT DOWN TO THE DEVIL.

He crossed the yard in the storm and gloom; He went into his grand front room.

He said, "I killed him, and I don't care."

He kicked a hound, he gave a swear; He tightened his belt, he took a lamp, Went down cellar to the webs and damp.

There in the middle of the mouldy floor He heaved up a slab, he found a door-- AND WENT DOWN TO THE DEVIL.

His lamp blew out, but his eyes burned bright.

Simon Legree stepped down all night-- DOWN, DOWN TO THE DEVIL.

Simon Legree he reached the place, He saw one half of the human race, He saw the Devil on a wide green throne, Gnawing the meat from a big ham-bone, And he said to Mister Devil:

"I see that you have much to eat-- A red ham-bone is surely sweet.

I see that you have lion's feet; I see your frame is fat and fine, I see you drink your poison wine-- Blood and burning turpentine."

And the Devil said to Simon Legree: "I like your style, so wicked and free.

Come sit and share my throne with me, And let us bark and revel."

And there they sit and gnash their teeth, And each one wears a hop-vine wreath.

They are matching pennies and shooting c.r.a.ps, They are playing poker and taking naps.

And old Legree is fat and fine: He eats the fire, he drinks the wine-- Blood and burning turpentine-- DOWN, DOWN WITH THE DEVIL; DOWN, DOWN WITH THE DEVIL; DOWN, DOWN WITH THE DEVIL.

II. John Brown

(To be sung by a leader and chorus, the leader singing the body of the poem, while the chorus interrupts with the question.)

I've been to Palestine.

WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE?

I saw the ark of Noah-- It was made of pitch and pine.

I saw old Father Noah Asleep beneath his vine.

I saw Shem, Ham and j.a.phet Standing in a line.

I saw the tower of Babel In the gorgeous sunrise shine-- By a weeping willow tree Beside the Dead Sea.

I've been to Palestine.

WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE?

I saw abominations And Gadarene swine.

I saw the sinful Canaanites Upon the shewbread dine, And spoil the temple vessels And drink the temple wine.

I saw Lot's wife, a pillar of salt Standing in the brine-- By a weeping willow tree Beside the Dead Sea.

I've been to Palestine.

WHAT DID YOU SEE IN PALESTINE?

Cedars on Mount Lebanon, Gold in Ophir's mine, And a wicked generation Seeking for a sign And Baal's howling worshippers Their G.o.d with leaves entwine.