Chapter 3

Chapter 34,246 wordsPublic domain

I brood not over the broken past, Nor dread whatever time may bring; No nights are dark, no days are long, While in my heart there swells a song, And I can sing.

MORNING, NOON AND NIGHT

When morning shows her first faint flush, I think of the tender blush That crept so gently to your cheek When first my love I dared to speak; How, in your glance, a dawning ray Gave promise of love's perfect day.

When, in the ardent breath of noon, The roses with passion swoon; There steals upon me from the air The scent that lurked within your hair; I touch your hand, I clasp your form-- Again your lips are close and warm.

When comes the night with beauteous skies, I think of your tear-dimmed eyes, Their mute entreaty that I stay, Although your lips sent me away; And then falls memory's bitter blight, And dark--so dark becomes the night.

HER EYES TWIN POOLS

Her eyes, twin pools of mystic light, The blend of star-sheen and black night; O'er which, to sound their glamouring haze, A man might bend, and vainly gaze.

Her eyes, twin pools so dark and deep, In which life's ancient mysteries sleep; Wherein, to seek the quested goal, A man might plunge, and lose his soul.

THE AWAKENING

I dreamed that I was a rose That grew beside a lonely way, Close by a path none ever chose, And there I lingered day by day. Beneath the sunshine and the show'r I grew and waited there apart, Gathering perfume hour by hour, And storing it within my heart, Yet, never knew, Just why I waited there and grew.

I dreamed that you were a bee That one day gaily flew along, You came across the hedge to me, And sang a soft, love-burdened song. You brushed my petals with a kiss, I woke to gladness with a start, And yielded up to you in bliss The treasured fragrance of my heart; And then I knew That I had waited there for you.

BEAUTY THAT IS NEVER OLD

When buffeted and beaten by life's storms, When by the bitter cares of life oppressed, I want no surer haven than your arms, I want no sweeter heaven than your breast.

When over my life's way there falls the blight Of sunless days, and nights of starless skies; Enough for me, the calm and steadfast light That softly shines within your loving eyes.

The world, for me, and all the world can hold Is circled by your arms; for me there lies, Within the lights and shadows of your eyes, The only beauty that is never old.

VENUS IN A GARDEN

'Twas at early morning, The dawn was blushing in her purple bed, When in a sweet, embowered garden She, the fairest of the goddesses, The lovely Venus, Roamed amongst the roses white and red. She sought for flowers To make a garland For her golden head.

Snow-white roses, blood-red roses, In that sweet garden close, Offered incense to the goddess: Both the white and the crimson rose.

White roses, red roses, blossoming: But the fair Venus knew The crimson roses had gained their hue From the hearts that for love had bled; And the goddess made a garland Gathered from the roses red.

VASHTI

I sometimes take you in my dreams to a far-off land I used to know, Back in the ages long ago; a land of palms and languid streams.

A land, by night, of jeweled skies, by day, of shores that glistened bright, Within whose arms, outstretched and white, a sapphire sea lay crescent-wise.

Where twilight fell like silver floss, where rose the golden moon half-hid Behind a shadowy pyramid; a land beneath the Southern Cross.

And there the days dreamed in their flight, each one a poem chanted through, Which at its close was merged into the muted music of the night.

And you were a princess in those days. And I--I was your serving lad. But who ever served with heart so glad, or lived so for a word of praise?

And if that word you chanced to speak, how all my senses swayed and reeled, Till low beside your feet I kneeled, with happiness o'erwrought and weak.

If, when your golden cup I bore, you deigned to lower your eyes to mine, Eyes cold, yet fervid, like the wine, I knew not how to wish for more.

I trembled at the thought to dare to gaze upon, to scrutinize The deep-sea mystery of your eyes, the sun-lit splendor of your hair.

To let my timid glances rest upon you long enough to note How fair and slender was your throat, how white the promise of your breast.

But though I did not dare to chance a lingering look, an open gaze Upon your beauty's blinding rays, I ventured many a stolen glance.

I fancy, too, (but could not state what trick of mind the fancy caused) At times your eyes upon me paused, and marked my figure lithe and straight.

Once when my eyes met yours it seemed that in your cheek, despite your pride, A flush arose and swiftly died; or was it something that I dreamed?

Within your radiance like the star of morning, there I stood and served, Close by, unheeded, unobserved. You were so near, and, yet, so far.

Ah! just to stretch my hand and touch the musky sandals on your feet!-- My breaking heart! of rapture sweet it never could have held so much.

Oh, beauty-haunted memory! Your face so proud, your eyes so calm, Your body like a slim young palm, and sinuous as a willow tree.

Caught up beneath your slender arms, and girdled 'round your supple waist, A robe of curious silk that graced, but only scarce concealed your charms.

A golden band about your head, a crimson jewel at your throat Which, when the sunlight on it smote, turned to a living heart and bled.

But, oh, that mystic bleeding stone, that work of Nature's magic art, Which mimicked so a wounded heart, could never bleed as did my own!

Now after ages long and sad, in this stern land we meet anew; No more a princess proud are you, and I--I am no serving lad.

And yet, dividing us, I meet a wider gulf than that which stood Between a princess of the blood and him who served low at her feet.

THE REWARD

No greater earthly boon than this I crave, That those who some day gather 'round my grave, In place of tears, may whisper of me then, "He sang a song that reached the hearts of men."

JINGLES & CROONS

SENCE YOU WENT AWAY

Seems lak to me de stars don't shine so bright, Seems lak to me de sun done loss his light, Seems lak to me der's nothin' goin' right, Sence you went away.

Seems lak to me de sky ain't half so blue, Seems lak to me dat ev'ything wants you, Seems lak to me I don't know what to do, Sence you went away.

Seems lak to me dat ev'ything is wrong, Seems lak to me de day's jes twice as long, Seems lak to me de bird's forgot his song, Sence you went away.

Seems lak to me I jes can't he'p but sigh, Seems lak to me ma th'oat keeps gittin' dry, Seems lak to me a tear stays in ma eye, Sence you went away.

MA LADY'S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY

(_Negro Love Song_)

Breeze a-sighin' and a-blowin', Southern summer night. Stars a-gleamin' and a-glowin', Moon jes shinin' right. Strollin', like all lovers do, Down de lane wid Lindy Lou; Honey on her lips to waste; 'Speck I'm gwine to steal a taste.

Oh, ma lady's lips am like de honey, Ma lady's lips am like de rose; An' I'm jes like de little bee a-buzzin' 'Round de flower wha' de nectah grows. Ma lady's lips dey smile so temptin', Ma lady's teeth so white dey shine, Oh, ma lady's lips so tantalizin', Ma lady's lips so close to mine.

Bird a-whistlin' and a-swayin' In de live-oak tree; Seems to me he keeps a-sayin', "Kiss dat gal fo' me." Look heah, Mister Mockin' Bird, Gwine to take you at yo' word; If I meets ma Waterloo, Gwine to blame it all on you.

Honey in de rose, I spose, is Put der fo' de bee; Honey on her lips, I knows, is Put der jes fo' me. Seen a sparkle in her eye, Heard her heave a little sigh; Felt her kinder squeeze ma han', 'Nuff to make me understan'.

TUNK

(_A Lecture on Modern Education_)

Look heah, Tunk!--Now, ain't dis awful! T'ought I sont you off to school. Don't you know dat you is growin' up to be a reg'lah fool?

Whah's dem books dat I's done bought you? Look heah, boy, you tell me quick, Whah's dat Webster blue-back spellah an' dat bran' new 'rifmatic?

W'ile I'm t'inkin' you is lahnin' in de school, why bless ma soul! You off in de woods a-playin'. Can't you do like you is tole?

Boy, I tell you, it's jes scan'lous d'way dat you is goin' on. An' you sholy go'n be sorry, jes as true as you is bo'n.

Heah I'm tryin' hard to raise you as a credit to dis race, An' you tryin' heap much harder fu' to come up in disgrace.

Dese de days w'en men don't git up to de top by hooks an' crooks; Tell you now, dey's got to git der standin' on a pile o' books.

W'en you sees a darkey goin' to de fiel' as soon as light, Followin' a mule across it f'om de mawnin' tel de night,

Wukin' all his life fu' vittles, hoein' 'tween de cott'n rows, W'en he knocks off ole an' tiah'd, ownin' nut'n but his clo'es,

You kin put it down to ignunce, aftah all what's done an' said, You kin bet dat dat same darkey ain't got nut'n in his head.

Ain't you seed dem w'ite men set'n in der awfice? Don't you know Dey goes der 'bout nine each mawnin? Bless yo' soul, dey's out by fo'.

Dey jes does a little writin'; does dat by some easy means; Gals jes set an' play piannah on dem printin' press muchines.

Chile, dem men knows how to figgah, how to use dat little pen, An' dey knows dat blue-back spellah f'om beginnin' to de en'.

Dat's de 'fect of education; dat's de t'ing what's gwine to rule; Git dem books, you lazy rascal! Git back to yo' place in school!

NOBODY'S LOOKIN' BUT DE OWL AND DE MOON

(_A Negro Serenade_)

De river is a-glistenin' in de moonlight, De owl is set'n high up in de tree; De little stars am twinklin' wid a sof' light, De night seems only jes fu' you an' me. Thoo de trees de breezes am a-sighin', Breathin' out a sort o' lover's croon, Der's nobody lookin' or a-spyin', Nobody but de owl an' de moon.

Nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon, An' de night is balmy; fu' de month is June; Come den, Honey, won't you? Come to meet me soon, Wile nobody's lookin' but de owl an' de moon.

I feel so kinder lonely all de daytime, It seems I raly don't know what to do; I jes keep sort a-longin' fu' de night-time, 'Cause den I know dat I can be wid you. An' de thought jes sets my brain a-swayin', An' my heart a-beatin' to a tune; Come, de owl won't tell w'at we's a-sayin', An' cose you know we kin trus' de moon.

YOU'S SWEET TO YO' MAMMY JES DE SAME

(_Lullaby_)

Shet yo' eyes, ma little pickaninny, go to sleep Mammy's watchin' by you all de w'ile; Daddy is a-wukin' down in de cott'n fiel', Wukin' fu' his little honey child. An' yo' mammy's heart is jes a-brimmin' full o' lub Fu' you f'om yo' head down to yo' feet; Oh, no mattah w'at some othah folks may t'ink o' you, To yo' mammy's heart you's mighty sweet.

You's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same; Dat's why she calls you Honey fu' yo' name. Yo' face is black, dat's true, An' yo' hair is woolly, too, But, you's sweet to yo' mammy jes de same.

Up der in de big house w'ere dey lib so rich an' gran' Dey's got chillen dat dey lubs, I s'pose; Chillen dat is purty, oh, but dey can't lub dem mo' Dan yo' mammy lubs you, heaben knows!

Dey may t'ink you's homely, an' yo' clo'es dey may be po', But yo' shinin' eyes, dey hol's a light Dat, my Honey, w'en you opens dem so big an' roun', Makes you lubly in yo' mammy's sight.

A PLANTATION BACCHANAL

W'en ole Mister Sun gits tiah'd a-hangin' High up in de sky; W'en der ain't no thunder and light'nin' a-bangin', An' de crap's done all laid by; W'en yo' bones ain't achin' wid de rheumatics, Den yo' ride de mule to town, Git a great big jug o' de ole corn juice, An' w'en you drink her down--

Jes lay away ole Trouble, An' dry up all yo' tears; Yo' pleasure sho' to double An' you bound to lose yo' keers. Jes lay away ole Sorrer High upon de shelf; And never mind to-morrer, 'Twill take care of itself.

W'en ole Mister Age begins a-stealin' Thoo yo' back an' knees, W'en yo' bones an' jints lose der limber feelin', An' am stiff'nin' by degrees; Now der's jes one way to feel young and spry, W'en you heah dem banjos soun' Git a great big swig o' de ole corn juice, An' w'en you drink her down--

JULY IN GEORGY

I'm back down in ole Georgy w'ere de sun is shinin' hot, W'ere de cawn it is a-tasslin', gittin' ready fu' de pot;

W'ere de cott'n is a-openin' an' a-w'itenin' in de sun, An' de ripenin' o' de sugah-cane is mighty nigh begun.

An' de locus' is a-singin' f'om eveh bush an' tree, An' you kin heah de hummin' o' de noisy bumblebee;

An' de mule he stan's a-dreamin' an' a-dreamin' in de lot, An' de sun it is a-shinin' mighty hot, hot, hot.

But evehbody is a-restin', fu' de craps is all laid by, An' time fu' de camp-meetin' is a-drawin' purty nigh;

An' we's put away de ploughshare, an' we's done hung up de spade, An' we's eatin' watermelon, an' a-layin' in de shade.

A BANJO SONG

W'en de banjos wuz a-ringin', An' de darkies wuz a-singin', Oh, wuzen dem de good times sho! All de ole folks would be chattin', An' de pickaninnies pattin', As dey heah'd de feet a-shufflin' 'cross de flo'.

An' how we'd dance, an' how we'd sing! Dance tel de day done break. An' how dem banjos dey would ring, An' de cabin flo' would shake!

Come along, come along, Come along, come along, Don't you heah dem banjos a-ringin'?

Gib a song, gib a song, Gib a song, gib a song, Git yo' feet fixed up fu' a-wingin'.

W'ile de banjos dey go plunka, plunka, plunk, We'll dance tel de ole flo' shake; W'ile de feet keep a-goin' chooka, chooka, chook, We'll dance tel de day done break.

ANSWER TO PRAYER

Der ain't no use in sayin' de Lawd won't answer prah; If you knows how to ax Him, I knows He's bound to heah.

De trouble is, some people don't ax de proper way, Den w'en dey git's no answer dey doubts de use to pray.

You got to use egzac'ly de 'spressions an' de words To show dat 'tween yo' faith an' works, you 'pends on works two-thirds.

Now, one time I remember--jes how long I won't say-- I thought I'd like a turkey to eat on Chris'mus day.

Fu' weeks I dreamed 'bout turkeys, a-struttin' in der pride; But seed no way to get one--widout de Lawd pervide.

An' so I went to prayin', I pray'd wid all my might; "Lawd, sen' _to_ me a turkey." I pray'd bofe day an' night.

"Lawd, sen' _to_ me a turkey, a big one if you please." I 'clar to heaben I pray'd so much I mos' wore out ma knees.

I pray'd dat prah so often, I pray'd dat prah so long, Yet didn't git no turkey, I know'd 'twas sump'n wrong.

So on de night 'fore Chris'mus w'en I got down to pray, "Lawd, sen' _me_ to a turkey," I had de sense to say.

"Lawd, sen' _me_ to a turkey." I know dat prah was right, An' it was sholy answer'd; I got de bird dat night.

DAT GAL O' MINE

Skin as black an' jes as sof' as a velvet dress, Teeth as white as ivory--well dey is I guess.

Eyes dat's jes as big an' bright as de evenin' star; An' dat hol' some sort o' light lublier by far.

Hair don't hang 'way down her back; plaited up in rows; Wid de two en's dat's behin' tied wid ribben bows.

Han's dat raly wuz'n made fu' hard work, I'm sho'; Got a little bit o' foot; weahs a numbah fo'.

You jes oughtah see dat gal Sunday's w'en she goes To de Baptis' meetin' house, dressed in her bes' clo'es.

W'en she puts her w'ite dress on an' othah things so fine; Now, Su', don't you know I'm proud o' dat gal o' mine.

THE SEASONS

W'en de leaves begin to fall, An' de fros' is on de ground, An' de 'simmons is a-ripenin' on de tree; W'en I heah de dinner call, An' de chillen gadder 'round, 'Tis den de 'possum is de meat fu' me.

W'en de wintertime am pas' An' de spring is come at las', W'en de good ole summer sun begins to shine; Oh! my thoughts den tek a turn, An' my heart begins to yearn Fo' dat watermelon growin' on de vine.

Now, de yeah will sholy bring 'Round a season fu' us all, Ev'y one kin pick his season f'om de res'; But de melon in de spring, An' de 'possum in de fall, Mek it hard to tell which time o' year am bes'.

'POSSUM SONG

(_A Warning_)

'Simmons ripenin' in de fall, You better run, Brudder 'Possum, run! Mockin' bird commence to call, You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! Run some whar an' hide! Ole moon am sinkin' Down behin' de tree. Ole Eph am thinkin' An' chuckelin' wid glee. Ole Tige am blinkin' An' frisky as kin be, Yo' chances, Brudder 'Possum, Look mighty slim to me.

Run, run, run, I tell you, Run, Brudder 'Possum, run! Run, run, run, I tell you, Ole Eph's got a gun. Pickaninnies grinnin' Waitin' fu' to see de fun. You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! Run, Brudder 'Possum, run!

Brudder 'Possum take a tip; You better run, Brudder 'Possum, run! 'Tain't no use in actin' flip, You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! You better run, Brudder 'Possum, git out de way! Run some whar an' hide. Dey's gwine to houn' you All along de line, W'en dey done foun' you, Den what's de use in sighin'? Wid taters roun' you. You sholy would tase fine-- So listen, Brudder 'Possum, You better be a-flyin'.

BRER RABBIT, YOU'S DE CUTES' OF 'EM ALL

Once der was a meetin' in de wilderness, All de critters of creation dey was dar; Brer Rabbit, Brer 'Possum, Brer Wolf, Brer Fox, King Lion, Mister Terrapin, Mister B'ar. De question fu' discussion was, "Who is de bigges' man?" Dey 'pinted ole Jedge Owl to decide; He polished up his spectacles an' put 'em on his nose, An' to the question slowly he replied:

"Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin', Brer Fox am mighty sly, Brer Terrapin an' 'Possum--kinder small; Brer Lion's mighty vicious, Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious, Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all."

Dis caused a great confusion 'mongst de animals, Ev'y critter claimed dat he had won de prize; Dey 'sputed an' dey arg'ed, dey growled an' dey roared, Den putty soon de dus' begin to rise.

Brer Rabbit he jes' stood aside an' urged 'em on to fight. Brer Lion he mos' tore Brer B'ar in two; W'en dey was all so tiahd dat dey couldn't catch der bref Brer Rabbit he jes' grabbed de prize an' flew.

Brer Wolf am mighty cunnin', Brer Fox am mighty sly, Brer Terrapin an' Possum--kinder small; Brer Lion's mighty vicious, Brer B'ar he's sorter 'spicious, Brer Rabbit, you's de cutes' of 'em all.

AN EXPLANATION

Look heah! 'Splain to me de reason Why you said to Squire Lee, Der wuz twelve ole chicken thieves In dis heah town, includin' me. Ef he tole you dat, my brudder, He said sump'n dat warn't true; W'at I said wuz dis, dat der wuz Twelve, _widout_ includin' you.

Oh!...!--

DE LITTLE PICKANINNY'S GONE TO SLEEP

Cuddle down, ma honey, in yo' bed, Go to sleep an' res' yo' little head, Been a-kind o' ailin' all de day? Didn't have no sperit fu' to play? Never min'; to-morrer, w'en you wek, Daddy's gwine to ride you on his bek, 'Roun' an' roun' de cabin flo' so fas'-- Der! He's closed his little eyes at las'.

De little pickaninny's gone to sleep, Cuddled in his trundle bed so tiny, De little pickaninny's gone to sleep, Closed his little eyes so bright an' shiny. Hush! an' w'en you walk across de flo' Step across it very sof' an' slow. De shadders all aroun' begin to creep, De little pickaninny's gone to sleep.

Mandy, w'at's de matter wid dat chile? Keeps a-sighin' ev'y little w'ile; Seems to me I heayhd him sorter groan, Lord! his little han's am col' as stone! W'at's dat far-off light dat's in his eyes? Dat's a light dey's borrow'd f'om de skies; Fol' his little han's across his breas', Let de little pickaninny res'.

THE RIVALS

Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done.

Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty--dat's been forty yeahs ago-- 'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so.

She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'! Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam.

You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place. 'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t'see who's gwine to win de race.

Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering, But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing.

Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side, He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride.

Well, de race was kinder equal, Lize wuz sorter on de fence; Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense.

Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day; Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way.

An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence; Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents.

Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes'; Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'.

Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair, Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair.

Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd, Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd.

Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull; So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full.

Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek, Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week.

Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red, Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead.

Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf', Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half.

But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs; 'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks.