The poetical works

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Houghton, Mifflin, 1904
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Страница 15 - He kin' o' 1'itered on the mat, Some doubtfle o' the sekle, His heart kep' goin' pity-pat, But hern went pity Zekle. An' yit she gin her cheer a jerk Ez though she wished him furder, An' on her apples kep' to work, Parin
Страница 125 - sa kind o' thing Thet don't agree with niggers. I du believe the people want A tax on teas an' coffees, Thet nothin' aint extravygunt, — Purvidin' I 'm in office; Fer I hev loved my country sence My eye-teeth filled their sockets, An' Uncle Sam I reverence, Partic'larly his pockets.
Страница 59 - Hosy wood n't take none o" his sarse for all he hed much as 20 Rooster's tales stuck onto his hat and eenamost enuf brass a bobbin up and down on his shoulders and figureed onto his coat and trousis, let alone wut nater hed sot in his featers, to make a 6 pounder out on.
Страница 16 - I'd better call agin," Says she, "Think likely, Mister;" Thet last word pricked him like a pin, An' — wal, he up an' kist her. When Ma bimeby upon 'em slips, Huldy sot pale ez ashes, All kin' o' smily roun' the lips An' teary roun
Страница 101 - I cannot praise a fugitive and cloistered virtue, unexercised and unbreathed, that never sallies out and sees her adversary, but slinks out of the race where that immortal garland is to be run for not without dust and heat.
Страница 87 - We kind o' thought Christ went agin' war an' pillage, An' thet eppyletts worn't the best mark of a saint ; But John P. Robinson he Sez this kind o' thing 's an exploded idee. The side of our country must ollers be took, An' Presidunt Polk, you know, he is our country. An...
Страница 66 - d ha' done 't ez quick ez winkin' In the days o' seventy-six. Clang the bells in every steeple, Call all true men to disown The tradoocers of our people, The enslavers o' their own; Let our dear old Bay State proudly Put the trumpet to her mouth, Let her ring this messidge loudly In the ears of all the South: — "I'll return ye good fer evil Much ez we frail mortils can, But I wun't go help the Devil Makin...
Страница 62 - Ez fer war, I call it murder, — There you hev it plain an' flat ; I don't want to go no furder Than my Testyment fer that ; God hez sed so plump an' fairly, It 's ez long ez it is broad, An' you Ve gut to git up airly Ef you want to take in God.
Страница 76 - I dars n't skeer the tarnal thing fer fear he 'd run away with 't.) Afore I come away from hum I hed a strong persuasion Thet Mexicans worn't human beans,* — an ourang outang nation, A sort o' folks a chap could kill an...
Страница 63 - re pupple in the face, — It 'sa grand gret cemetary Fer the barthrights of our race ; They jest want this Californy So 's to lug new slave-states in To abuse ye, an' to scorn ye, An

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