Good goes with honesty, I say,
      To honour an’ to bless;
  To rich an’ poor alike it brings
      A wealth o’ happiness. 
  The ’ristercrats ain’t got it all,
      Fur much to their su’prise,
  That’s one of earth’s most blessed things
      They can’t monopolize.

POSSUM

  Ef dey ’s anyt’ing dat riles me
    An’ jes’ gits me out o’ hitch,
  Twell I want to tek my coat off,
    So ‘s to r’ar an’ t’ar an’ pitch,
  Hit’s to see some ign’ant white man
    ‘Mittin’ dat owdacious sin—­
  Wen he want to cook a possum
    Tekin’ off de possum’s skin.

  W’y dey ain’t no use in talkin’,
    Hit jes’ hu’ts me to de hea’t
  Fu’ to see dem foolish people
    Th’owin’ ‘way de fines’ pa’t. 
  W’y, dat skin is jes’ ez tendah
    An’ ez juicy ez kin be;
  I knows all erbout de critter—­
    Hide an’ haih—­don’t talk to me!

  Possum skin is jes lak shoat skin;
    Jes’ you swinge an’ scrope it down,
  Tek a good sha’p knife an’ sco’ it,
    Den you bake it good an’ brown. 
  Huh-uh! honey, you ’s so happy
    Dat yo’ thoughts is ‘mos’ a sin
  When you ‘s settin’ dah a-chawin’
    On dat possum’s cracklin’ skin.

  White folks t’ink dey know ‘bout eatin’,
    An’ I reckon dat dey do
  Sometimes git a little idee
    Of a middlin’ dish er two;
  But dey ain’t a t’ing dey knows of
    Dat I reckon cain’t be beat
  Wen we set down at de table
    To a unskun possum’s meat!

ON THE ROAD

  I ‘s boun’ to see my gal to-night—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 
  De moon ain’t out, de stars ain’t bright—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 
  Dis hoss o’ mine is pow’ful slow,
  But when I does git to yo’ do’
  Yo’ kiss ‘ll pay me back, an’ mo’,
    Dough lone de way, my dearie.

  De night is skeery-lak an’ still—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 
  ‘Cept fu’ dat mou’nful whippo’will—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 
  De way so long wif dis slow pace,
  ’T ‘u’d seem to me lak savin’ grace
  Ef you was on a nearer place,
    Fu’ lone de way, my dearie.

  I hyeah de hootin’ of de owl—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 
  I wish dat watch-dog would n’t howl:—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie! 
  An’ evaht’ing, bofe right an’ lef’,
  Seem p’int’ly lak hit put itse’f
  In shape to skeer me half to def—­
    Oh, lone de way, my dearie!

  I whistles so’s I won’t be feared—­
    Oh lone de way, my dearie! 
  But anyhow I’s kin’ o’ skeered,
    Fu’ lone de way, my dearie. 
  De sky been lookin’ mighty glum,
  But you kin mek hit lighten some,
  Ef you ‘ll jes’ say you’s glad I come,
    Dough lone de way, my dearie.

A DEATH SONG

  Lay me down beneaf de willers in de grass,
  Whah de branch ‘ll go a-singin’ as it pass. 
    An’ w’en I ‘s a-layin’ low,
    I kin hyeah it as it go
  Singin’, “Sleep, my honey, tek yo’ res’ at las’.”