But de trees don’ chattah,
    Dey des look an’ sigh
  Lak hit’s kin’ o’ peaceful
    Des a-bein’ nigh,
  An’ yo’ t’ank yo’ Mastah
    Dat dey trunks is thick
  W’en yo’ mammy fin’s you
    Wadin’ in de crick.

  Den yo’ run behin’ dem
    Lak yo’ scaihed to def,
  Mammy come a-flyin’,
    Mos’ nigh out o’ bref;
  But she set down gentle
    An’ she drap huh stick,—­
  An’ fus’ t’ing, dey’s mammy
    Wadin’ in de crick.

THE QUILTING

  Dolly sits a-quilting by her mother, stich by stitch,
  Gracious, how my pulses throb, how my fingers itch,
  While I note her dainty waist and her slender hand,
  As she matches this and that, she stitches strand by strand. 
  And I long to tell her Life’s a quilt and I’m a patch;
  Love will do the stitching if she’ll only be my match.

PARTED

  She wrapped her soul in a lace of lies,
    With a prime deceit to pin it;
  And I thought I was gaining a fearsome prize,
    So I staked my soul to win it.

  We wed and parted on her complaint,
    And both were a bit of barter,
  Tho’ I’ll confess that I’m no saint,
    I’ll swear that she’s no martyr.

FOREVER

  I had not known before
    Forever was so long a word. 
  The slow stroke of the clock of time
    I had not heard.

  ’Tis hard to learn so late;
    It seems no sad heart really learns,
  But hopes and trusts and doubts and fears,
    And bleeds and burns.

  The night is not all dark,
    Nor is the day all it seems,
  But each may bring me this relief—­
    My dreams and dreams.

  I had not known before
    That Never was so sad a word,
  So wrap me in forgetfulness—­
    I have not heard.

THE PLANTATION CHILD’S LULLABY

  Wintah time hit comin’
    Stealin’ thoo de night;
  Wake up in the mo’nin’
    Evah t’ing is white;
  Cabin lookin’ lonesome
    Stannin’ in de snow,
  Meks you kin’ o’ nervous,
    Wen de win’ hit blow.

  Trompin’ back from feedin’,
    Col’ an’ wet an’ blue,
  Homespun jacket ragged,
    Win’ a-blowin’ thoo. 
  Cabin lookin’ cheerful,
    Unnerneaf de do’,
  Yet you kin’ o’ keerful
    Wen de win’ hit blow.

  Hickory log a-blazin’
    Light a-lookin’ red,
  Faith o’ eyes o’ peepin’
    ’Rom a trun’le bed,
  Little feet a-patterin’
    Cleak across de flo’;
  Bettah had be keerful
    Wen de win’ hit blow.

  Suppah done an’ ovah,
    Evah t’ing is still;
  Listen to de snowman
    Slippin’ down de hill. 
  Ashes on de fiah,
    Keep it wa’m but low. 
  What’s de use o’ keerin’
    Ef de win’ do blow?