 | 'Weh Down Souf and other Poems : |  |
10
BAKIN' AN' GREENS.
Yo' may tell me ub pastries an' fine oyster patties,
Ub salads an' crowkets an' Boston baked beans;
But dar's nuffin' so temptin' to dis gent'mun's palate
Ez a big slice ub bakin' an' plenty ub greens.
Ub salads an' crowkets an' Boston baked beans;
But dar's nuffin' so temptin' to dis gent'mun's palate
Ez a big slice ub bakin' an' plenty ub greens.
Jes' bile 'um right down, so dey'll melt when yo' eat 'um;
Hab a big streak ub fat an' a small streak o' lean.
Dar's nuffin' on urf yo' kin fix up to beat 'um,
Fur de king ub all dishes am bakin' an' greens.
Hab a big streak ub fat an' a small streak o' lean.
Dar's nuffin' on urf yo' kin fix up to beat 'um,
Fur de king ub all dishes am bakin' an' greens.
Den tak' sum good cohn meal, an' sif' it, an' pat it,
An' put it in ashes wid nuffin' between;
Den blow off de ashes, an' set right down at it,
Fur dar's nuffin' lik' ash-cake, wid bakin' an' greens.
An' put it in ashes wid nuffin' between;
Den blow off de ashes, an' set right down at it,
Fur dar's nuffin' lik' ash-cake, wid bakin' an' greens.
'Twill take de ol' mammies to fix 'um up greazy,
Wid liker an' dumplin's de bes' you hab seen;
Take all yer fin' eatin's—I won't be uneazy,
Ef you'll lebe me dat bakin' an' plenty ub greens.
Wid liker an' dumplin's de bes' you hab seen;
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Ef you'll lebe me dat bakin' an' plenty ub greens.
Sum folks may lik' tucky, an' sum may lik' chicken,
But my heart fills wid joy, an' wid pledjur I beams,
When I kum home frum wuck an' a day ub hard pickin's,
An' am greeted wid bakin' an' a big dish ub greens.
But my heart fills wid joy, an' wid pledjur I beams,
When I kum home frum wuck an' a day ub hard pickin's,
An' am greeted wid bakin' an' a big dish ub greens.
Rich folks in dar kerrige may fro de dus' on me,
But how kin I enby dem men ub big means;
Dey may hab dispepsy, an' do' dey may scorn me,
Dey kan't injoy bakin' wid lots ub good greens.
But how kin I enby dem men ub big means;
Dey may hab dispepsy, an' do' dey may scorn me,
Dey kan't injoy bakin' wid lots ub good greens.
You may put me in rags, fill my cup up wid sorrow,
Let joy be a stranger, an' trouble my dreams;
I still will be smilin', no pain kin I borrow,
Ef I still kin git bakin', wid plenty ub greens.
Let joy be a stranger, an' trouble my dreams;
I still will be smilin', no pain kin I borrow,
Ef I still kin git bakin', wid plenty ub greens.
| 'Weh Down Souf and other Poems : | |