 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
425
“FOUND DEAD IN HIS BED.”
Dead in his bed thar, Miss Moser,
That's whar they found him to-day;
Kerried away without warnin'—
Took in a snap, you mought say.
Smilin' as ef he war sleepin',
Both his arms onder his head;
That was the kurriner's vardick—
“Stranger—found dead in his bed.”
That's whar they found him to-day;
Kerried away without warnin'—
Took in a snap, you mought say.
Smilin' as ef he war sleepin',
Both his arms onder his head;
That was the kurriner's vardick—
“Stranger—found dead in his bed.”
Yisterday he, at Squire Toney's,
Axt heaps of questions of John;
Lookt like a right friendly pusson—
Now the lone creatur' is gone.
So, I allow, my pore Benny
Died in some place fur away—
Some place I'll never diskiver
Now twell my own dyin' day.
Axt heaps of questions of John;
Lookt like a right friendly pusson—
Now the lone creatur' is gone.
So, I allow, my pore Benny
Died in some place fur away—
Some place I'll never diskiver
Now twell my own dyin' day.
Some beggin' furriner? Skeercely!
Must hev bin powerful rich!
Had a goold watch in his poke thar,
Great heaps of greenbacks, an' sich.
What brought him yer to the mountings
Nobody found out or knows.
Come yer from off the Ohio,
Lookin' for timber, I s'pose.
Must hev bin powerful rich!
Had a goold watch in his poke thar,
Great heaps of greenbacks, an' sich.
What brought him yer to the mountings
Nobody found out or knows.
Come yer from off the Ohio,
Lookin' for timber, I s'pose.
Ain't sich an old man, he, nuther—
Risin', I jedge, forty year;
Had an ole mother, too, likely—
Some one as held him as dear.
So, p'r'aps, my own darlin' Benny,
Him that I never'll see,
Died fur away among strangers—
Died somewhere else fur from me.
Risin', I jedge, forty year;
Had an ole mother, too, likely—
Some one as held him as dear.
426
Him that I never'll see,
Died fur away among strangers—
Died somewhere else fur from me.
Well, then, I'll tell you, Miss Moser,
Jes' how the thing come to be
(No, I don't mind it a mossel;
'Tis ruther a comfort to me)—
Jes' how the suckumst'nce happint,
How, on a bright summer day,
Thirty-one year come nex' August,
Benny, my boy, run away.
Jes' how the thing come to be
(No, I don't mind it a mossel;
'Tis ruther a comfort to me)—
Jes' how the suckumst'nce happint,
How, on a bright summer day,
Thirty-one year come nex' August,
Benny, my boy, run away.
Benny was allus projectin'
Works that he'd kerry right through.
Peert! well, he was, and detarmined—
Jes' what he sed he would do.
I let the honey, Miss Moser,
Do pooty much as he choose;
How could her son a lone widow,
How could a mother, refuse?
Works that he'd kerry right through.
Peert! well, he was, and detarmined—
Jes' what he sed he would do.
I let the honey, Miss Moser,
Do pooty much as he choose;
How could her son a lone widow,
How could a mother, refuse?
Hiram M'Comas—Dan's Hiram—
Lived up agin the P'int Ridge,
Down in the Cany Branch Hollow
(Thar's whar the Yanks built the bridge
Time they an' our folks war fightin');
Hiram a sailor had bin,
But had come back to the mountings,
Sayin' he'd die with his kin.
Lived up agin the P'int Ridge,
Down in the Cany Branch Hollow
(Thar's whar the Yanks built the bridge
Time they an' our folks war fightin');
Hiram a sailor had bin,
But had come back to the mountings,
Sayin' he'd die with his kin.
Benny he took so to Hiram—
Hiram who lived by himself
Full half a mile on the mounting,
Back on the uppermost shelf;
Liked to hear Hiram tell stories
All about big ships that swim
Out on the salt, stormy ocean—
Hiram, he took some to him.
Hiram who lived by himself
Full half a mile on the mounting,
Back on the uppermost shelf;
427
All about big ships that swim
Out on the salt, stormy ocean—
Hiram, he took some to him.
Well, I remember one mornin'
Forgyson's Nancy come down
Over the gap in the mounting,
Ridin' for store goods to town.
Benny come ridin' behind her—
He'd bin to Hiram's all night—
And ef that Hiram he hadn't
Marked him twell he was a sight.
Forgyson's Nancy come down
Over the gap in the mounting,
Ridin' for store goods to town.
Benny come ridin' behind her—
He'd bin to Hiram's all night—
And ef that Hiram he hadn't
Marked him twell he was a sight.
I never see sich a figger
When the pore boy was ondrest—
Speckled tattooin', he called it,
Over his arms an' his breast.
On his right arm was an anchor;
Jes' over that was a B;
Over the top was a criss-cross;
Onder it all was an E.
When the pore boy was ondrest—
Speckled tattooin', he called it,
Over his arms an' his breast.
On his right arm was an anchor;
Jes' over that was a B;
Over the top was a criss-cross;
Onder it all was an E.
You may allow that I washed him,
Tryin' to take it away;
Rubbed him an' scrubbed him all mornin',
Worked with him nigh half a day.
So I kept tryin' an' tryin'
Ontwell I thought I'd hev died;
Then I gin out in a passion,
An' I sot down thar an' cried.
Tryin' to take it away;
Rubbed him an' scrubbed him all mornin',
Worked with him nigh half a day.
So I kept tryin' an' tryin'
Ontwell I thought I'd hev died;
Then I gin out in a passion,
An' I sot down thar an' cried.
Benny looked up, an' sed, “Mother,
That's the way all sailors do.”
“Do they?” sez I; “then I'll larn you
Hiram sha'n't play tricks on you.”
Out came the switch from the corner,
An'—for my temper was riz—
Didn't I work on the creatur',
Tannin' that body of his!
That's the way all sailors do.”
“Do they?” sez I; “then I'll larn you
Hiram sha'n't play tricks on you.”
428
An'—for my temper was riz—
Didn't I work on the creatur',
Tannin' that body of his!
Benny he didn't an' wouldn't
Let out a tear or a cry;
“Mother,” he sed, “a true sailor
Wouldn't sing out ef he'd die.
Never you mind! now you're lickin',
Make it a good one, for shore
You kin jes' bet all your silver
Benny you'll never lick more.
Let out a tear or a cry;
“Mother,” he sed, “a true sailor
Wouldn't sing out ef he'd die.
Never you mind! now you're lickin',
Make it a good one, for shore
You kin jes' bet all your silver
Benny you'll never lick more.
“'Tisn't no use of your huggin'—
No, I won't give you a kiss!
See, ef I don't make you sorry—
Sorry you've licked me like this.
I'll run away for a sailor;
I'll be a pride to my kin;
Never twell he's a rich captain
You shell see Benny agin!”
No, I won't give you a kiss!
See, ef I don't make you sorry—
Sorry you've licked me like this.
I'll run away for a sailor;
I'll be a pride to my kin;
Never twell he's a rich captain
You shell see Benny agin!”
Then he run off up the Hollow;
That didn't give me a fright,
Reck'nin' he'd gone off to Hiram's,
Meanin' to stay thar all night.
But when I sent up nex' mornin',
Through me it went with a jar,
When the word came back from Hiram's,
Benny, he hadn't bin thar.
That didn't give me a fright,
Reck'nin' he'd gone off to Hiram's,
Meanin' to stay thar all night.
But when I sent up nex' mornin',
Through me it went with a jar,
When the word came back from Hiram's,
Benny, he hadn't bin thar.
When we had raised all the country,
By-an'-by up come a man,
Sayin' he'd seen sich a youngster'
Down at the mouth of Guyan.
Thar was the last we could trace him;
That was the last place he'd bin;
Thirty-one years come nex' August—
I never saw him agin.
By-an'-by up come a man,
Sayin' he'd seen sich a youngster'
Down at the mouth of Guyan.
429
That was the last place he'd bin;
Thirty-one years come nex' August—
I never saw him agin.
No! I've no hope that I'll see him;
P'r'aps when I'm dead we may meet;
Wonder ef he has a mother—
He that lies onder yan sheet?
Wonder ef his arm is speckled?
Let's turn the sleeve up, an' see:
God! O my Benny! my captain!
Have you, then, come back to me?
P'r'aps when I'm dead we may meet;
Wonder ef he has a mother—
He that lies onder yan sheet?
Wonder ef his arm is speckled?
Let's turn the sleeve up, an' see:
God! O my Benny! my captain!
Have you, then, come back to me?
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |