Then who is the Lord of the land of life,
    At setting of the sun? 
  Whose word shall sway when Peace is rife
    And all the fray is done?

  Then Death is the Lord of the land of life,
    When your hot race is run. 
  Meet then his scythe and, pruning-knife
    When the fray is lost or won.

TROUBLE IN DE KITCHEN

  Dey was oncet a awful quoil ‘twixt de skillet an’ de pot;
  De pot was des a-bilin’ an’ de skillet sho’ was hot. 
  Dey slurred each othah’s colah an’ dey called each othah names,
  Wile de coal-oil can des gu-gled, po’in oil erpon de flames.

  De pot, hit called de skillet des a flat, disfiggered t’ing,
  An’ de skillet ‘plied dat all de pot could do was set an’ sing,
  An’ he ’lowed dat dey was ’lusions dat he wouldn’t stoop to mek
  ‘Case he reckernize his juty, an’ he had too much at steak.

  Well, at dis de pot biled ovah, case his tempah gittin’ highah,
  An’ de skillet got to sputterin’, den de fat was in de fiah. 
  Mistah flan lay daih smokin’ an’ a-t’inkin’ to hisse’f,
  Wile de peppah-box us nudgin’ of de gingah on de she’f.

  Den dey all des lef hit to ’im, ‘bout de trouble an’ de talk;
  An’ howevah he decided, w’y dey bofe ’u’d walk de chalk;
  But de fiah uz so ‘sgusted how dey quoil an’ dey shout
  Dat he cooled ’em off, I reckon, w’en he puffed an’ des went out.

CHRISTMAS

  Step wid de banjo an’ glide wid de fiddle,
    Dis ain’ no time fu’ to pottah an’ piddle: 
  Fu’ Christmas is comin’, it’s right on de way,
    An’ dey’s houahs to dance ‘fo’ de break o’ de day.

  What if de win’ is taihin’ an’ whistlin’? 
    Look at dat’ fiah how hit’s spittin’ an’ bristlin’! 
  Heat in de ashes an’ heat in de cindahs,
    Ol’ mistah Fros’ kin des look thoo de windahs.

  Heat up de toddy an’ pas’ de wa’m glasses,
    Don’ stop to shivah at blowin’s an’ blas’es,
  Keep on de kittle an’ keep it a-hummin’,
    Eat all an’ drink all, dey’s lots o’ a-comin’. 
  Look hyeah, Maria, don’t open dat oven,
    Want all dese people a-pushin’ an’ shovin’?

  Res’ f’om de dance?  Yes, you done cotch dat odah,
    Mammy done cotch it, an’ law! hit nigh flo’d huh;
  ‘Possum is monst’ous fu’ mekin’ folks fin’ it! 
    Come, draw yo’ cheers up, I’s sho’ I do’ min’ it. 
  Eat up dem critters, you men folks an’ wimmens,
    ‘Possums ain’ skace w’en dey’s lots o’ pu’simmons.

ROSES AND PEARLS

  Your spoken words are roses fine and sweet,
  The songs you sing are perfect pearls of sound. 
  How lavish nature is about your feet,
  To scatter flowers and jewels both around.

  Blushing the stream of petal beauty flows,
  Softly the white strings trickle down and shine. 
  Oh! speak to me, my love, I crave a rose. 
  Sing me a song, for I would pearls were mine.