 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
THE OLD NEGRO MINSTREL.
Why, yes, I don't care if I do—
No water! reverend, if you please:
Ach! that's the stuff to bring one to,
Stiffen the back and brace the knees.
With half-a-dozen slugs as good,
Put me again within the show,
I'd bring the house down as I could,
And did, not many years ago.
No water! reverend, if you please:
Ach! that's the stuff to bring one to,
Stiffen the back and brace the knees.
With half-a-dozen slugs as good,
Put me again within the show,
I'd bring the house down as I could,
And did, not many years ago.
344
You stare! you never looked at me
Before I threw myself away;
I tell you, bummer though I be,
I have been famous in my day.
Bones, banjo, middle man and end;
Essence of Ole Virginny too;
And Grapevine Twist and Camptown Bend—
I've run the minstrel business through.
Before I threw myself away;
I tell you, bummer though I be,
I have been famous in my day.
Bones, banjo, middle man and end;
Essence of Ole Virginny too;
And Grapevine Twist and Camptown Bend—
I've run the minstrel business through.
They said no tenor voice like mine
Had ever in a troupe been heard;
So sweet, so soft, so silvery fine,
With trilling like a woodland bird.
And when I did the heel and toe,
Or walked around, or sung Ole Dad,
Or jumped Bob Ridley, O! O! O!
You'd think the people would go mad.
Had ever in a troupe been heard;
So sweet, so soft, so silvery fine,
With trilling like a woodland bird.
And when I did the heel and toe,
Or walked around, or sung Ole Dad,
Or jumped Bob Ridley, O! O! O!
You'd think the people would go mad.
Another? Thankee! Come, that's prime!
It brings me to my feet again,
And minds me of the olden time
When I was quite a man of men.
And O, what labor then I took
With whitened wig to do old Ned,
To totter and my back to crook—
It all comes natural now instead.
It brings me to my feet again,
And minds me of the olden time
When I was quite a man of men.
And O, what labor then I took
With whitened wig to do old Ned,
To totter and my back to crook—
It all comes natural now instead.
Four years I'd been upon the stage—
I was the star of stars, they said;
My voice and acting were the rage—
Wider my reputation spread.
And off the boards, so fair my face,
So fine my form, they called me “Sam,
The Ladies' Darling”—you'll not trace
Much that I was in what I am.
I was the star of stars, they said;
My voice and acting were the rage—
Wider my reputation spread.
And off the boards, so fair my face,
So fine my form, they called me “Sam,
The Ladies' Darling”—you'll not trace
Much that I was in what I am.
345
We played—no matter where we played—
To crowded houses; all the day
An eager mob for places prayed;
At night we hundreds turned away.
No spot but what was closely filled,
Pit, boxes, gallery, aisles, and all;
I sang—the house so wrapt and thrilled,
You might have heard a tear-drop fall.
To crowded houses; all the day
An eager mob for places prayed;
At night we hundreds turned away.
No spot but what was closely filled,
Pit, boxes, gallery, aisles, and all;
I sang—the house so wrapt and thrilled,
You might have heard a tear-drop fall.
A sea of faces swam in cloud,
Calmed by my voice's silver tone;
But, singled from that earnest crowd,
My eyes took in one face alone.
There wrapt in mist, as though she dreamed,
Sat one, so beautiful and young,
My only auditor she seemed,
For her alone my song I sung.
Calmed by my voice's silver tone;
But, singled from that earnest crowd,
My eyes took in one face alone.
There wrapt in mist, as though she dreamed,
Sat one, so beautiful and young,
My only auditor she seemed,
For her alone my song I sung.
O'er heads of men and forms of men,
My soul went out to hers that night;
And back came hers to mine again,
Until all space was filled with light.
And when the curtain on me fell,
And her no longer I could see,
It seemed the place around was hell,
And heaven forever barred to me.
My soul went out to hers that night;
And back came hers to mine again,
Until all space was filled with light.
And when the curtain on me fell,
And her no longer I could see,
It seemed the place around was hell,
And heaven forever barred to me.
Give me another! If you'd raise
The buried from its hidden grave,
And summon back forgotten days,
And would not have me howl and rave,
Steady my nerves with whisky! There—
Pour till you fill—this fit will pass.
Ah! how that stirs me! Now, I swear,
Youth seems to frolic in the glass.
The buried from its hidden grave,
And summon back forgotten days,
And would not have me howl and rave,
Steady my nerves with whisky! There—
Pour till you fill—this fit will pass.
Ah! how that stirs me! Now, I swear,
Youth seems to frolic in the glass.
346
I met her soon—why make the tale
Too tedious? Let all that go by—
Enough, I won her, who could fail
That bore a love so strong as I?
I won her promise to be mine,
If I would leave the boards and be
A farmer on the Brandywine—
A farmer's daughter wife to me.
Too tedious? Let all that go by—
Enough, I won her, who could fail
That bore a love so strong as I?
I won her promise to be mine,
If I would leave the boards and be
A farmer on the Brandywine—
A farmer's daughter wife to me.
We parted. I the task begun
To hoard each coin as though it were
In value thousands, every one
I gained but brought me nearer her.
And through the time that we had fixed,
I toiled, but all the toil was gay;
For with those nights of labor mixed
The promise of a happier day.
To hoard each coin as though it were
In value thousands, every one
I gained but brought me nearer her.
And through the time that we had fixed,
I toiled, but all the toil was gay;
For with those nights of labor mixed
The promise of a happier day.
The year was up. I eager sought
The girl I loved, but mine no more;
Absence and fate their work had wrought—
She had been wed the month before.
A clown, who knew not what he gained,
Who grovelled far below my hate,
The jewel of my heart obtained,
And I had come too late—too late!
The girl I loved, but mine no more;
Absence and fate their work had wrought—
She had been wed the month before.
A clown, who knew not what he gained,
Who grovelled far below my hate,
The jewel of my heart obtained,
And I had come too late—too late!
What matter by what steps I sank;
How bit by bit the lower deep
I fell to; how I drank and drank—
You see me as I crawl and creep.
Give me one more—just one—I've told
My story—every word is true—
Thank you! that's worth a ton of gold!
May no one tell the same of you.
How bit by bit the lower deep
I fell to; how I drank and drank—
You see me as I crawl and creep.
Give me one more—just one—I've told
My story—every word is true—
Thank you! that's worth a ton of gold!
May no one tell the same of you.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |