 | The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") |  |
409
MOMMA PHŒBE.
Ef my hah is de colo' o' silbah,
I ain't mo' d'n fifty yea' ole;
It tuck all dat whiteness f'om mo'nin',
An' weepin' an' tawtah o' soul.
Faw I los' bofe my dahlin' men-child'en—
De two hev done gone to deh res'—
My Jim, an' my mist'ess' Mahs' William,
De pah dat hev nussed at my breas'.
I ain't mo' d'n fifty yea' ole;
It tuck all dat whiteness f'om mo'nin',
An' weepin' an' tawtah o' soul.
Faw I los' bofe my dahlin' men-child'en—
De two hev done gone to deh res'—
My Jim, an' my mist'ess' Mahs' William,
De pah dat hev nussed at my breas'.
Miss' Lucy she mawied in Ap'il,
An' I done got mawied in May;
An' bofe o' our beautiful child'en
Wah bo'n de same time to a day.
But while I got bettah an' strongah,
Miss' Lucy got weakah an' wuss;
Den she died, an' dey guv me de baby,
De leetle Mahs' William, to nuss.
An' I done got mawied in May;
An' bofe o' our beautiful child'en
Wah bo'n de same time to a day.
But while I got bettah an' strongah,
Miss' Lucy got weakah an' wuss;
Den she died, an' dey guv me de baby,
De leetle Mahs' William, to nuss.
De two boys weh fotch up togeddah,
Miss' Lucy's alongside o' mine;
Ef one got hisse'f into mischief,
De uddah weh not fuh behine.
When Mahs' William he went to de college,
Why, nuffin' on ahf den won' do,
But Jeemes, his milk-bruddah, faw sahbent,
Mus' git an' mus' go wid him too.
Miss' Lucy's alongside o' mine;
Ef one got hisse'f into mischief,
De uddah weh not fuh behine.
When Mahs' William he went to de college,
Why, nuffin' on ahf den won' do,
But Jeemes, his milk-bruddah, faw sahbent,
Mus' git an' mus' go wid him too.
Dey come back in fo' yea' faw to stay yeh—
I allow 'twas the makin' o' Jim;
Setch a gemplum, de young colo'd weemen
Got pullin' deh caps dah faw him.
But he wasn't a patch to Mahs' William,
Who'd grown up so gran' an' so tall;
An' he hadn't fo'got his ole momma,
Faw he hugged me, he did, fo' dem all.
I allow 'twas the makin' o' Jim;
Setch a gemplum, de young colo'd weemen
Got pullin' deh caps dah faw him.
410
Who'd grown up so gran' an' so tall;
An' he hadn't fo'got his ole momma,
Faw he hugged me, he did, fo' dem all.
Den Mahs' Dudley was tuck wid de fevah,
An' I nussed him, po' man, to de las';
An' my husban', Ben Prossah, he cotch it,
An' bofe f'om dis life dey done pas'.
Mahs' William, he run de plantation,
But de niggahs could easy fool him;
An' de place would have all come to nuffin',
Ef 'twant faw old momma an' Jim.
An' I nussed him, po' man, to de las';
An' my husban', Ben Prossah, he cotch it,
An' bofe f'om dis life dey done pas'.
Mahs' William, he run de plantation,
But de niggahs could easy fool him;
An' de place would have all come to nuffin',
Ef 'twant faw old momma an' Jim.
Well at las'—I dunno how dey done it,
An' jes' what de fightin' was faw—
But de No'f an' de Souf got a quarlin',
An' Mahs' William 'd go to de waw.
De folks roun' 'bout raised a squad'on,
An' faw capen de men 'lected him.
I prayed he'd stay home wid his people;
But he went, an' o' co'se he tuck Jim.
An' jes' what de fightin' was faw—
But de No'f an' de Souf got a quarlin',
An' Mahs' William 'd go to de waw.
De folks roun' 'bout raised a squad'on,
An' faw capen de men 'lected him.
I prayed he'd stay home wid his people;
But he went, an' o' co'se he tuck Jim.
It was gran' faw to see all dem hossmen
Dat numbah'd a hund'ed an' fo',
As dey sot up dah straight in deh saddles,
An' rid in fo' rows by de do'.
An' Mahs' William he sed as he passed me,
An' me a'most ready to cry,
“Take good cah o' you'se'f, Momma Phœbe;
Jim an' I'll be along yeh bimeby.”
Dat numbah'd a hund'ed an' fo',
As dey sot up dah straight in deh saddles,
An' rid in fo' rows by de do'.
An' Mahs' William he sed as he passed me,
An' me a'most ready to cry,
“Take good cah o' you'se'f, Momma Phœbe;
Jim an' I'll be along yeh bimeby.”
We hea' 'bout dem two sets a-fightin',
I reckon faw mo' d'n fo' yea';
An' bimeby we lahnt dat de Yankees
Wid deh ahmy was comin' quite neah.
An' den deh was fit a great battle,
Jes' ovah dat hill dat you sees;
We could hea' all de cannon a-roa'in',
An' see de smoke obah dem trees.
I reckon faw mo' d'n fo' yea';
An' bimeby we lahnt dat de Yankees
Wid deh ahmy was comin' quite neah.
411
Jes' ovah dat hill dat you sees;
We could hea' all de cannon a-roa'in',
An' see de smoke obah dem trees.
I sot in my cabin a-prayin'—
I t'ought o' my two boys dat day—
An' de noise it went fuddah an' fuddah,
Till all o' it melted away.
An' de sun it sot awful an' bloody,
An' a great pile o' fi' in de sky;
An' beyon' was de dead men a-lyin',
An' de wounded a-gwine for to die.
I t'ought o' my two boys dat day—
An' de noise it went fuddah an' fuddah,
Till all o' it melted away.
An' de sun it sot awful an' bloody,
An' a great pile o' fi' in de sky;
An' beyon' was de dead men a-lyin',
An' de wounded a-gwine for to die.
Den I riz an' I called faw ole Lem'el,
An' a couple o' mo' o' de boys;
An' s'I: “Now you saddle de hosses,
An' be kehful an' don't make no noise;
An' we'll go to de fiel' o' de battle
Afo' de las' bit o' de beams
O' daylight is gone, an' we'll look dah
Faw our young Mahs' William an' Jeemes.”
An' a couple o' mo' o' de boys;
An' s'I: “Now you saddle de hosses,
An' be kehful an' don't make no noise;
An' we'll go to de fiel' o' de battle
Afo' de las' bit o' de beams
O' daylight is gone, an' we'll look dah
Faw our young Mahs' William an' Jeemes.”
An' dey say: “Dey ain' dah, fah sahtin;
Deh's nuffin' de mattah, faw sho';
But seein' it's you, Momma Phœbe,
O' co'se all de boys yeh dey'll go.”
An' dey saddled an' bridled de hosses—
De bes' had been all tuck away—
An' we retched to de place o' de fightin'
Jes' close on de heels o' de day.
Deh's nuffin' de mattah, faw sho';
But seein' it's you, Momma Phœbe,
O' co'se all de boys yeh dey'll go.”
An' dey saddled an' bridled de hosses—
De bes' had been all tuck away—
An' we retched to de place o' de fightin'
Jes' close on de heels o' de day.
An', oh! what a sight deh wah, honey;
A sight you could nevvah fo'git;
De piles o' de dead an' de dyin'—
I see um afo' my eyes yit.
An' de blood an' de gashes was ghas'ly,
An' shibbe'd de soul to see,
Like the fiel' o' de big Ahmageddon,
Which yit is a-gwine for to be.
A sight you could nevvah fo'git;
De piles o' de dead an' de dyin'—
I see um afo' my eyes yit.
412
An' shibbe'd de soul to see,
Like the fiel' o' de big Ahmageddon,
Which yit is a-gwine for to be.
Den I hea'd a woice cryin' fah “wahtah!”
An' I toted de gode to de place,
An' den, as I guv him de drink dah,
My teahs dey fell ober his face.
Faw he was shot right froo de middle,
An' his mahstah lay dead dah by him;
An' he sed, s'e, “Is dat you dah, momma?”
An' I sed, s'I, “Is dat you dah, Jim?”
An' I toted de gode to de place,
An' den, as I guv him de drink dah,
My teahs dey fell ober his face.
Faw he was shot right froo de middle,
An' his mahstah lay dead dah by him;
An' he sed, s'e, “Is dat you dah, momma?”
An' I sed, s'I, “Is dat you dah, Jim?”
“It's what deh is lef' o' me, momma;
An' young Mahs' William's done gone;
But I foun' de chap dat kill' him,
An' he lies dah clove to de bone.
An' po' young Mahs' William, in dyin',
Dese wah de wo'ds dat he sed—
‘Jes' you tell you' Momma, Mom' Phœbe—’”
Den I scream, faw de dahlin' fall—dead!
An' young Mahs' William's done gone;
But I foun' de chap dat kill' him,
An' he lies dah clove to de bone.
An' po' young Mahs' William, in dyin',
Dese wah de wo'ds dat he sed—
‘Jes' you tell you' Momma, Mom' Phœbe—’”
Den I scream, faw de dahlin' fall—dead!
All batte'd an' shatte'd wid bullets,
An' hacked wid de bayonet an' swo'd;
An' bleedin' an' cut up an' mangled,
An' dead on de meadow so broad.
But what dah was lef' o' de bodies,
I tuck um, an' washed um, an' dress';
Faw I membah'd de deah blessed babies
Dat once drawed de milk f'om my breas'.
An' hacked wid de bayonet an' swo'd;
An' bleedin' an' cut up an' mangled,
An' dead on de meadow so broad.
But what dah was lef' o' de bodies,
I tuck um, an' washed um, an' dress';
Faw I membah'd de deah blessed babies
Dat once drawed de milk f'om my breas'.
Den on to de ole plantation
We toted de cawpses dat night,
An' we guv um a beautiful beh'yum,
De colo'd as well as de white.
An' I shall be jined to dem child'n
When de Jedgmen' Day comes on;
For God'll be good to Mom' Phœbe
When Gab'el is blowin' his ho'n.
We toted de cawpses dat night,
413
De colo'd as well as de white.
An' I shall be jined to dem child'n
When de Jedgmen' Day comes on;
For God'll be good to Mom' Phœbe
When Gab'el is blowin' his ho'n.
| The select poems of Dr. Thomas Dunn English (exclusive of the "Battle lyrics") | |