 | Songs of two centuries |  |
67
Songs of the Rivers.
69
TO GO A-SWIMMING.
There's a red-letter page that is brighter for its age,
And the finger-marks of Time are never dimming;
It has very much to say of a hot summer day,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming.
Creeping through lengthy grass while dancing shadows pass,
Threading deep haunted woods where the squirrel stows his goods,
And birds nested high teach their little ones to fly,
Where the grape-cluster shines in a wilderness of vines,
Where are mossy pillows green not a slumberer hath seen,
And the red flowers grow in a blossom-drift of snow;—
It was maybe twice as gay that we felt a bit astray,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming!
And the finger-marks of Time are never dimming;
It has very much to say of a hot summer day,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming.
Creeping through lengthy grass while dancing shadows pass,
Threading deep haunted woods where the squirrel stows his goods,
And birds nested high teach their little ones to fly,
Where the grape-cluster shines in a wilderness of vines,
Where are mossy pillows green not a slumberer hath seen,
And the red flowers grow in a blossom-drift of snow;—
It was maybe twice as gay that we felt a bit astray,
When we fellows ran away, to go a-swimming!
And the river and the pool were so heaven-like and cool,
With fresh baby-breezes over-skimming;
Everything well contrived for a pleasure short-lived,
When we runaways arrived to go a-swimming!
Now all ready—now a plunge! and our bodies, like a sponge
That unduly dry has been, seem to drink the water in;
We are groping in the caves of the cold silent waves,
We are climbing to the air, flinging torrents from our hair,
And we struggle to and fro through the ripples' gentle flow,
And we duels gaily fight with the plashing waters bright,
On each other, through the fray, flinging barrels-full of spray;
Oh! the mad and merry day we went a-swimming!
With fresh baby-breezes over-skimming;
Everything well contrived for a pleasure short-lived,
When we runaways arrived to go a-swimming!
Now all ready—now a plunge! and our bodies, like a sponge
That unduly dry has been, seem to drink the water in;
We are groping in the caves of the cold silent waves,
We are climbing to the air, flinging torrents from our hair,
And we struggle to and fro through the ripples' gentle flow,
And we duels gaily fight with the plashing waters bright,
On each other, through the fray, flinging barrels-full of spray;
Oh! the mad and merry day we went a-swimming!
Now the moral of this rhyme is for youth's careless time,
Full of good, sober counsel it is brimming:
In your labor or your play, your superiors obey;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming.
Though the flower-jewels shine with a radiance divine,
And the daisy-blossoms creep in the meadows half asleep,
And the clouds are like a high floating castle in the sky,
And the forest-branches dumb wink and beckon you to come,
And a shady nook you know where the dainty billows flow,
Whose delicious quiet charms would fold you in their arms—
Be obedient while you may; on the shore of duty stay;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming!
Full of good, sober counsel it is brimming:
In your labor or your play, your superiors obey;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming.
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And the daisy-blossoms creep in the meadows half asleep,
And the clouds are like a high floating castle in the sky,
And the forest-branches dumb wink and beckon you to come,
And a shady nook you know where the dainty billows flow,
Whose delicious quiet charms would fold you in their arms—
Be obedient while you may; on the shore of duty stay;
Don't you ever run away to go a-swimming!
71
WHERE WE WATERED THE TEAM.
The sky was a blaze; but the forest's green haze
Made our journey a dream;
And torn shadows fell like the fringe of a spell—
Where we watered the team.
The flower-bushes stood—radiant belles of the wood—
In their jewels around;
A grass-forest grew and incumbered our view
Of the hills of the ground.
Made our journey a dream;
And torn shadows fell like the fringe of a spell—
Where we watered the team.
The flower-bushes stood—radiant belles of the wood—
In their jewels around;
A grass-forest grew and incumbered our view
Of the hills of the ground.
Sweet rivulets pressed from a mountain's high crest,
Like arrows agleam;
Flowed in beauty and mirth the white blood of the earth,
Where we watered the team.
It daintily flung, silent shadows among,
Bright jewels of sound;
Thus crooning a free merry song of the sea—
Whence it came—where 'twas bound.
Like arrows agleam;
Flowed in beauty and mirth the white blood of the earth,
Where we watered the team.
It daintily flung, silent shadows among,
Bright jewels of sound;
Thus crooning a free merry song of the sea—
Whence it came—where 'twas bound.
There was music to spare in the leaf-scented air,
Where we watered the team;
Chanted robin and thrush, in the half-sacred hush,
Their melodious theme.
And the clear water sung, to the heart as it clung
Of a tree that was prone;
And the horses' soft lips in sweet tremulous sips
Had a chant of their own.
Where we watered the team;
Chanted robin and thrush, in the half-sacred hush,
Their melodious theme.
And the clear water sung, to the heart as it clung
Of a tree that was prone;
And the horses' soft lips in sweet tremulous sips
Had a chant of their own.
Mid the rest-giving din, a bright chalice of tin
Threw its welcoming beam;
And we drank to the health of this fragment of wealth,
When we'd watered the team.
We were wondering much, as the wave's cooling touch
Through our beings was strown,
If it were not a taste of the stream that John traced
To the depths of the throne.
Threw its welcoming beam;
And we drank to the health of this fragment of wealth,
When we'd watered the team.
We were wondering much, as the wave's cooling touch
Through our beings was strown,
If it were not a taste of the stream that John traced
To the depths of the throne.
72
CHANT OF THE ST. LAWRENCE.
I am marching to the sea—
To my king, the mighty sea;
In his tent he waits for me—
In his tent, with walls of blue,
Decked with flags of brightest hue,
In his starlit, sunlit tent,
O'er the head in splendor bent.
To my king, the mighty sea;
In his tent he waits for me—
In his tent, with walls of blue,
Decked with flags of brightest hue,
In his starlit, sunlit tent,
O'er the head in splendor bent.
I have messages in store,
For my king, the mighty sea:
Great Superior's solemn word,
Huron's answering voice is heard.
Erie's shelving walls of land,
Clad with wealth and comfort o'er;
Stern Niagara's thunder-pour,
Great Ontario's prosperous strand
Decked with city-pictures grand—
All send messages by me,
To their king, the mighty sea.
For my king, the mighty sea:
Great Superior's solemn word,
Huron's answering voice is heard.
Erie's shelving walls of land,
Clad with wealth and comfort o'er;
Stern Niagara's thunder-pour,
Great Ontario's prosperous strand
Decked with city-pictures grand—
All send messages by me,
To their king, the mighty sea.
All my treasures I must leave—
All my thousand tree-fringed isles,
All my shore-hills clad in smiles—
All the shadows that they weave,
All my woods, with eyes of blue,
All the cottages of white,
Bathed in dim reflected light;
Would that I might take them too,
Floating eastward down with me,
For an offering to the sea!
All my thousand tree-fringed isles,
All my shore-hills clad in smiles—
All the shadows that they weave,
All my woods, with eyes of blue,
All the cottages of white,
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Would that I might take them too,
Floating eastward down with me,
For an offering to the sea!
Stately ships with plumes of black,
Follow on my gleaming track;
Villages with sails of white,
Decked with banners brave and bright;
Funeral-trains of forest-trees,
Journey with me to the seas—
Travel with me toward the main—
March amid my glittering train.
Follow on my gleaming track;
Villages with sails of white,
Decked with banners brave and bright;
Funeral-trains of forest-trees,
Journey with me to the seas—
Travel with me toward the main—
March amid my glittering train.
Down the rapid's giddy stair
Rush I headlong as in fear;
Past the crags that linger there—
Past th' old gray rock's constant sneer,
To my death-like, deathless fate,
Where my lord and king doth wait.
Panic-struck, I rush and rave,
As some mortals toward the grave,
Rush and rave and hurry on,
With my task no nearer won.
But or tranquil or in haste,
Frowning wild or placid-faced,
Eastward still my soul is set:
I am loyal, even yet!
Rush I headlong as in fear;
Past the crags that linger there—
Past th' old gray rock's constant sneer,
To my death-like, deathless fate,
Where my lord and king doth wait.
Panic-struck, I rush and rave,
As some mortals toward the grave,
Rush and rave and hurry on,
With my task no nearer won.
But or tranquil or in haste,
Frowning wild or placid-faced,
Eastward still my soul is set:
I am loyal, even yet!
Times, in broad blue lakes I tarry,
Kept in couches soft and low;
Lulled to sleep as if by fairy,
Breeze-caresses sweep my brow.
Sun-caresses thrill my soul,
Shadow-hands my ways control;
In the night's unlaughing glee,
Stars come out and smile at me;
Zephyrs from the wooded west,
Pause awhile, with me to rest.
“Here”, I plead, “that I might stay
Many a night and many a day!”
But the cry is “Onward! On!”
Never, till my journey's done,
Can I tarry well or long,
Can I hush my marching-song.
I am marching to the sea—
To my king, the mighty sea;
In his tent he waits for me,
In his tent, with walls of blue,
Decked with flags of brightest hue
In his starlit, sunlit tent,
O'er the head in splendor bent;
On his calm, majestic breast,
I will lie, in changeful rest.
Kept in couches soft and low;
Lulled to sleep as if by fairy,
Breeze-caresses sweep my brow.
Sun-caresses thrill my soul,
Shadow-hands my ways control;
In the night's unlaughing glee,
Stars come out and smile at me;
Zephyrs from the wooded west,
Pause awhile, with me to rest.
“Here”, I plead, “that I might stay
Many a night and many a day!”
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Never, till my journey's done,
Can I tarry well or long,
Can I hush my marching-song.
I am marching to the sea—
To my king, the mighty sea;
In his tent he waits for me,
In his tent, with walls of blue,
Decked with flags of brightest hue
In his starlit, sunlit tent,
O'er the head in splendor bent;
On his calm, majestic breast,
I will lie, in changeful rest.
75
THE OARSMAN'S STORY.
Hold it steady—don't disturb him—give him leeway for to bite—
Yes, you've got him! reel him careful, for he'll make a lovely fight!
O my gracious! now you've lost him, an' he's swiped your hook an' bait!
Never mind; we'll throw another; he will stan' around an' wait.
It's a reason for our thinkin' that the fish are slow to feel,
That their appetites 'll sharpen, when they get a taste o' steel!
Yes, you've got him! reel him careful, for he'll make a lovely fight!
O my gracious! now you've lost him, an' he's swiped your hook an' bait!
Never mind; we'll throw another; he will stan' around an' wait.
It's a reason for our thinkin' that the fish are slow to feel,
That their appetites 'll sharpen, when they get a taste o' steel!
Now, that sort o' half reminds me of a bass I used to know,
That was brains from prow to rudder, if a fish was ever so;
For he stole my bait off handy every time I throwed it in,
An' then flopped up from the water with a cunnin' sort o' grin;
An' I fin'lly named him Lawyer; for he'd leave the hook as bare
As a client in a court-room with atturneys fur to spare.
That was brains from prow to rudder, if a fish was ever so;
For he stole my bait off handy every time I throwed it in,
An' then flopped up from the water with a cunnin' sort o' grin;
An' I fin'lly named him Lawyer; for he'd leave the hook as bare
As a client in a court-room with atturneys fur to spare.
An' I worked him late an' early, an' I give him all the chance
That a fish was ever offered, for to take a river-dance;
But he made the same division an' he drawed it very fine,
Taking fur himself the minny—leavin' me the hook an' line;
An' I struggled late and early with my fish-poles an' my reels,
An' my time an' strength an' minnies—jest to give that fish his meals.
That a fish was ever offered, for to take a river-dance;
But he made the same division an' he drawed it very fine,
Taking fur himself the minny—leavin' me the hook an' line;
An' I struggled late and early with my fish-poles an' my reels,
An' my time an' strength an' minnies—jest to give that fish his meals.
An' it fin'lly come to askin' whether natives on the shore,
That had paddled through the river for a forty year or more,
Should be beaten every summer by a feller, it appears,
Who had only swum the water for a half a dozen years;
An' two nights I laid a-thinkin' how to work it on him slick,
An' to play the little lawyer one good everlastin' trick.
That had paddled through the river for a forty year or more,
Should be beaten every summer by a feller, it appears,
Who had only swum the water for a half a dozen years;
An' two nights I laid a-thinkin' how to work it on him slick,
An' to play the little lawyer one good everlastin' trick.
Then I built a queer contraption strung with new-invented crooks—
'Twas a circus made of minnies an' a side-show full o' hooks;
An' I don't suppose a critter could go near it head or tail,
But 'twas sure to catch him somehow, an' to hold him like a nail;
An' I loudly hollered “Glory!” an' was full o' joy an' pride,
When that afternoon I snapped him, with a fish-hook in his side!
'Twas a circus made of minnies an' a side-show full o' hooks;
An' I don't suppose a critter could go near it head or tail,
But 'twas sure to catch him somehow, an' to hold him like a nail;
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When that afternoon I snapped him, with a fish-hook in his side!
But he mildly gazed upon me, as I drawed him up an' near,
With a look of disappointment in his eye so black an' clear;
An' he seemed to say as reg'lar as a fish with words to spare,
“Now, you know to make it decent you are bound to catch me fair!
You an' I has been a-strivin' at a scientific game,
An' to treat me foul an' sneaky is an everlastin' shame!”
With a look of disappointment in his eye so black an' clear;
An' he seemed to say as reg'lar as a fish with words to spare,
“Now, you know to make it decent you are bound to catch me fair!
You an' I has been a-strivin' at a scientific game,
An' to treat me foul an' sneaky is an everlastin' shame!”
Then I ans'rs, “Do you mean it—do you think it—straight an' true?”
An' he winked his eye like sayin', “Yes, by gracious, sir, I do!”
An' I picked the fish-hook from him, usin' most unusual care,
An' he seemed to whisper, “Thank you; but it's only just an' fair!”
An' I cut off my new fish-hooks—all the whole infernal set—
An' I throwed 'em in the river, and they're in the river yet.
An' he winked his eye like sayin', “Yes, by gracious, sir, I do!”
An' I picked the fish-hook from him, usin' most unusual care,
An' he seemed to whisper, “Thank you; but it's only just an' fair!”
An' I cut off my new fish-hooks—all the whole infernal set—
An' I throwed 'em in the river, and they're in the river yet.
An' I launched my friend a-floatin' in the water cold an' blue,
An' he flopped a sort of “Thank you”, as he disappeared from view;
An' he never stole a minny nor seemed ready to commence,
Though he's sort o' hung around me in the water ever sence;
An' I often think the feller means to pay me back ag'in,
An' now acts as my atturney fur to rope the others in;
An' he flopped a sort of “Thank you”, as he disappeared from view;
An' he never stole a minny nor seemed ready to commence,
Though he's sort o' hung around me in the water ever sence;
An' I often think the feller means to pay me back ag'in,
An' now acts as my atturney fur to rope the others in;
But he started me a-thinkin': When you fish, as fish you will,
Be a sport an' not a butcher; try to catch an' not to kill;
Keep enough to serve your eatin', let the surplus fellers go;
Send the small ones to their mothers—give 'em time to fat an grow.
An' when pullin' in the fishes, don't be slow to recollect
To secure 'em in a manner not to forfeit their respect.
Be a sport an' not a butcher; try to catch an' not to kill;
Keep enough to serve your eatin', let the surplus fellers go;
Send the small ones to their mothers—give 'em time to fat an grow.
An' when pullin' in the fishes, don't be slow to recollect
To secure 'em in a manner not to forfeit their respect.
77
OUT OF ALEXANDR' BAY.
A January Fish-Story.
Poke the fire a little, children, till the log begins to blaze,
For the January blizzards! hev a lot of frosty ways;
Bring the apples an' the doughnuts, an'—the cider, understan',
An' be mighty sure to place 'em some'at handy to the han';
An' I'll string you up a story illustrative of the way
That I used to go a-fishing out of Alexandr' Bay.
For the January blizzards! hev a lot of frosty ways;
Bring the apples an' the doughnuts, an'—the cider, understan',
An' be mighty sure to place 'em some'at handy to the han';
An' I'll string you up a story illustrative of the way
That I used to go a-fishing out of Alexandr' Bay.
First, I asked the wind an' current fur to furnish me a lift,
Then I sailed away a distance in my double-p'inted skift;
An' I tuk it when desirous of a half a day alone,
Fur the biggest of the fishes doesn't like a human tone.
An' I recollect I anchored on one mornin' bright an' clear,
Where the basses used to gather in that season of the year.
Then I sailed away a distance in my double-p'inted skift;
The St. Lawrence River skiff is pointed at both ends, and will run one way as well as the other. It is admirably adapted for rowing, sailing, fishing, or hunting; and no other kind would generally be seen upon that river, in a day's journey. The oarsman's dialect invariably refers to it as a “skift.”
An' I tuk it when desirous of a half a day alone,
Fur the biggest of the fishes doesn't like a human tone.
An' I recollect I anchored on one mornin' bright an' clear,
Where the basses used to gather in that season of the year.
When I found 'em, they was huddled near a little islan'-beach,
An' they measured—O my gracious, twice as much as I ken reach
(An' I don't believe there's any hev their arms in a posish
Fur to stretch 'em more than I ken, in describin' of a fish);
An' the mornin' was so gentle, an' the water was so clear,
I cud see 'em smell my minny jus' as if they all was here.
An' they measured—O my gracious, twice as much as I ken reach
(An' I don't believe there's any hev their arms in a posish
Fur to stretch 'em more than I ken, in describin' of a fish);
An' the mornin' was so gentle, an' the water was so clear,
I cud see 'em smell my minny jus' as if they all was here.
But a lot o' rich New Yorkers hed their summer houses nigh,
An' my gracious them 'er fishes was a-eatin' cake an' pie!
Cooks hed throwed it in the river when it cluttered up a dish,
An' I s'pose it tasted better to the fishes, than a fish;
An' I whispered to my conscience, “You are very near a fool,
Ef you waste your time a-danglin' overneath a boardin'-school!”
An' my gracious them 'er fishes was a-eatin' cake an' pie!
Cooks hed throwed it in the river when it cluttered up a dish,
An' I s'pose it tasted better to the fishes, than a fish;
An' I whispered to my conscience, “You are very near a fool,
Ef you waste your time a-danglin' overneath a boardin'-school!”
Then my conscience answered, “Stiddy; keep a-givin 'em the bait!
There is al'ays blessin's comin' to a feller that can wait.”
An' I kep' a peekin' down'ard so 's to see how matters stood,
An' I held a lively minny jus' as near 'em as I could;
An' I meant it as a primium fer the scholars; but alas!
Not a single one would offer fur to jine my cookin'-class!
There is al'ays blessin's comin' to a feller that can wait.”
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An' I held a lively minny jus' as near 'em as I could;
An' I meant it as a primium fer the scholars; but alas!
Not a single one would offer fur to jine my cookin'-class!
Then they sort o' laid an' rested in the water still an' deep,
An' they dropped their noses down'ard, an' appeared to go to sleep;
An' they nestled near and nearer to the river's sandy floor,
An' I listened till I reckoned I could hear the fellers snore!
An' I says, “Lie still and slumber; I'm a-watching o'er your bed;
If you'll only wake up hungry, here is blessin's on your head!
An' they dropped their noses down'ard, an' appeared to go to sleep;
An' they nestled near and nearer to the river's sandy floor,
An' I listened till I reckoned I could hear the fellers snore!
An' I says, “Lie still and slumber; I'm a-watching o'er your bed;
If you'll only wake up hungry, here is blessin's on your head!
Bye an' bye the leader started, scratched his for'ead with a fin,
An' he stretched an' yawned a little, an' my bait it wiggled in
('Twas a knowin' breed o' minnies we was rearin' at the Bay),
An' the bass he shut his mouth up, an' the hook got in the way;
An' before he hed the priv'lege fur to flop a single note,
He had left his loved companions, an' had started for the boat.
An' he stretched an' yawned a little, an' my bait it wiggled in
('Twas a knowin' breed o' minnies we was rearin' at the Bay),
An' the bass he shut his mouth up, an' the hook got in the way;
An' before he hed the priv'lege fur to flop a single note,
He had left his loved companions, an' had started for the boat.
Then I winked unto the minny, an' I thought I see him grin,
An' I 'magine he enjoyed it, so I sent him down ag'in;
An' he run among 'em lively—like a wiggler in a cup;
An' kep' knockin' at their doorways, till he woke another up;
An' the fish embraced his caller, more in passion than in love;
An' immediately started for the happy land above.
An' I 'magine he enjoyed it, so I sent him down ag'in;
An' he run among 'em lively—like a wiggler in a cup;
An' kep' knockin' at their doorways, till he woke another up;
An' the fish embraced his caller, more in passion than in love;
An' immediately started for the happy land above.
One by one the others wakened, an' the word was passed aroun'
There was somethin' there fur nothin' that hed jus' come into town;
An' they soon was crazy fur it—an' the smartest of 'em led
(Fur a fish is partly human, as I think I al'ays said):
An' may Ananias' spirit come and visit me tonight,
Ef them everlastin' fishes didn't stan' in line to bite!
There was somethin' there fur nothin' that hed jus' come into town;
An' they soon was crazy fur it—an' the smartest of 'em led
(Fur a fish is partly human, as I think I al'ays said):
An' may Ananias' spirit come and visit me tonight,
Ef them everlastin' fishes didn't stan' in line to bite!
An' my boat was overloaded till it sort o' sagged an' stuck,
An' I sold 'em out in messes to some fellers scant of luck;
An' some fifty reputations as a fisherman, no doubt,
Was established on the fishes I'm a-tellin' ye about;
Anyhow, the rich New Yorkers , they was buyin' all the way
From the islan' of the basses into Alexandr' Bay.
An' I sold 'em out in messes to some fellers scant of luck;
An' some fifty reputations as a fisherman, no doubt,
Was established on the fishes I'm a-tellin' ye about;
Anyhow, the rich New Yorkers , they was buyin' all the way
From the islan' of the basses into Alexandr' Bay.
79
FROM CORN-FIELD TO RIVER.
Yes, a seashore swimmin'-hole in a manner is excitin'—
Jumpin' billows like a hoop—or with ram-like waves a-fightin',
Beddin' in the flea-bit sand tryin' to improve the weather—
In a pair of overhauls an' a shirt-waist sewed together;
But for me I must agree that the ocean ain't a trimmin'
To the day we ran away from the fields, to go a-swimmin'!
[Thus said Ahab Adams, riding in “my auto-mo-what-is-it?”
To his brother Daniel Adams from Montana on a visit.]
Jumpin' billows like a hoop—or with ram-like waves a-fightin',
Beddin' in the flea-bit sand tryin' to improve the weather—
In a pair of overhauls an' a shirt-waist sewed together;
But for me I must agree that the ocean ain't a trimmin'
To the day we ran away from the fields, to go a-swimmin'!
[Thus said Ahab Adams, riding in “my auto-mo-what-is-it?”
To his brother Daniel Adams from Montana on a visit.]
What an afternoon that was!—all creation seemed a-burnin'!
Sim an' Jim an' me an' you agricult'ral tricks was learnin';
'Mongst the corn an' punkin vines for the world's advancement growin',
We four boys was takin' walks where the baked world needed hoein'.
Sim an' Jim an' me an' you agricult'ral tricks was learnin';
'Mongst the corn an' punkin vines for the world's advancement growin',
We four boys was takin' walks where the baked world needed hoein'.
What a hot-house day it was! sun a bonfire just above us;
Air as still as grassy graves of the folks that used to love us;
Skies as clear as babies' eyes—old moon grinned at our condition;
Cloud or cloudlet anywhere was an unknown proposition.
So we done the horses' work, while they stood 'neath shade-trees charmin'
(Cultivators wan't yet made, so that men could ride their farmin').
Air as still as grassy graves of the folks that used to love us;
Skies as clear as babies' eyes—old moon grinned at our condition;
Cloud or cloudlet anywhere was an unknown proposition.
So we done the horses' work, while they stood 'neath shade-trees charmin'
(Cultivators wan't yet made, so that men could ride their farmin').
An' we walked an' hoed an' arg'ed various matters of creation
That would make us think way off, an' forget our perspiration:
Wondered 'bout the steamboat craft ploughin' up a watery furrow,
Deacon Smith had seen one day when he went to Middleborough;
Wondered at the railroad trains—how there ever come to be one—
If they'd some time skip our way—or we'd ever git to see one;
Talked about the stars on high—mostly suns of long existence—
Glad, if they was like our sun, they knowed how to keep their distance;
Talked about the 'lectric wire that the city-folks was gettin'—
Wondered how they kep' the news, when 'twas rainy, from a wettin';
Talked about the winter school; how we worked there like the dickens,
On the sums; an' how, somehow, ans'ers wan't as flush as lickin's;
How warm Sundays growed the sermons; how we never got to miss one;
Wondered if the other world had a corn-field hot as this one;
Talked our high ambitions higher, mourned the poverty that bound us—
Talked of all the pretty gals for ten mile or so around us;
Hoein' with our minds an' hearts facts we'd noticed or been taught of:
Several things that Markham's fool mebby never even thought of.
That would make us think way off, an' forget our perspiration:
Wondered 'bout the steamboat craft ploughin' up a watery furrow,
Deacon Smith had seen one day when he went to Middleborough;
Wondered at the railroad trains—how there ever come to be one—
If they'd some time skip our way—or we'd ever git to see one;
Talked about the stars on high—mostly suns of long existence—
Glad, if they was like our sun, they knowed how to keep their distance;
Talked about the 'lectric wire that the city-folks was gettin'—
Wondered how they kep' the news, when 'twas rainy, from a wettin';
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On the sums; an' how, somehow, ans'ers wan't as flush as lickin's;
How warm Sundays growed the sermons; how we never got to miss one;
Wondered if the other world had a corn-field hot as this one;
Talked our high ambitions higher, mourned the poverty that bound us—
Talked of all the pretty gals for ten mile or so around us;
Hoein' with our minds an' hearts facts we'd noticed or been taught of:
Several things that Markham's fool mebby never even thought of.
But while we was bakin' there, raisin' fodder for the cattle,
In the road some rods away we could hear a wagon rattle;
It was Dad, a-drivin off to'ds the village, with the women;
An' I recollect you said, “Boys, le's sneak an' go a-swimmin'!”
In the road some rods away we could hear a wagon rattle;
It was Dad, a-drivin off to'ds the village, with the women;
An' I recollect you said, “Boys, le's sneak an' go a-swimmin'!”
I hev since been up an' down through agreements an' contentions;
I hev even helped to run legislaters an' conventions;
But for unanimity right up equal to my notion,
I hev never seen it yet, since the time you made that motion.
I hev even helped to run legislaters an' conventions;
But for unanimity right up equal to my notion,
I hev never seen it yet, since the time you made that motion.
How we crept off through the woods till we found that blessed river!
How we dove into its depths, with a first delicious shiver!
How we paddled up an' down! How we splashed each others' faces!
How we tunnelled through the water, comin' up in different places!
How we towed each other round by the hair an' heels alternit!
How a half of us could swim an' the others tried to learn it!
How we envied everything that was ever scaled or finny!
“This”, I recollect you said, “beats the corn-field all to Guinea!”
How we dove into its depths, with a first delicious shiver!
How we paddled up an' down! How we splashed each others' faces!
How we tunnelled through the water, comin' up in different places!
How we towed each other round by the hair an' heels alternit!
How a half of us could swim an' the others tried to learn it!
How we envied everything that was ever scaled or finny!
“This”, I recollect you said, “beats the corn-field all to Guinea!”
Yes, 'twas heaven! an' when 'twas through nothin' made it less elatin',
'Ceptin' Dad upon the bank, with some birch-sticks, calmly waitin'.
'Ceptin' Dad upon the bank, with some birch-sticks, calmly waitin'.
| Songs of two centuries | |