THRASH away, you'll hev to rattle
On them kittle drums o' yourn,-
"Taint a knowin kind o' cattle
Thet is ketched with mouldy corn;
Put in stiff, you fifer feller,
Let folks see how spry you be,— Guess you'll toot till you are yeller 'Fore you git ahold o' me!
Thet air flag's a leetle rotten,
Hope it aint your Sunday's best;-
Fact! it takes a sight o' cotton
To stuff out a soger's chest:
Sence we farmers hev to pay fer't,
Ef you must wear humps like these,
Sposin you should try salt hay fer't,
It would du ez slick ez grease.
"Twouldn't suit them Southern fellers, They're a dreffle graspin' set,
We must ollers blow the bellers
Wen they want their irons het;
May be it's all right ez preachin',
But my narves it kind o'grates,
Wen I see the overreachin'
O' them nigger-drivin' States.
Them that rule us, them slave-traders, Haint they cut a thunderin' swarth, (Helped by Yankee renegaders,)
Thru the vartu o' the North!
We begin to think it's nater
To take sarse an' not be riled;
Who'd expect to see a tater
All on eend at bein' biled?
Ez fer war, I call it murder,—
There you have it plain an' flat;
I don't want to go no furder
Than my Testyment fer that;
God hez sed so plump and fairly,
It's ez long ez it is broad,
An' you've gut to get up airly
Ef you want to take in God.
Taint your eppyletts an' feathers
Make the thing a grain more right;
"Taint a follerin' your bell-wethers
Will excuse ye in His sight;
Ef you take a sword an' dror it,
An' go stick a feller thru,
Guv'ment aint to answer fer it,
God 'ill send the bill to you.
Wut's the use o' meeting-goin'
Every Sabbath, wet or dry,
Ef it's right to go amowin'
Feller-men like oats an' rye?
I dunno but wut it's pooty
Trainin' round in bobtail coats.-
But it's curus Christian dooty
This ere cuttin' folks's throats.
They may talk o' Freedom's airy
Tell they're pupple in the face,-
It's a grand gret cemetery
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' to plunder ye like sin.
Aint it cute to see a Yankee
Take such everlastin' pains
All to git the Devil's thankee,
Helpin' on 'em weld their chains?
Wy, it's jest ez clear ez figgers,
Clear ez one an' one make two,
Chaps that make black slaves o' niggers,
Want to make wite slaves o' you.
Tell ye jest the eend I've come to
Arter cipherin' plaguy smart,
An' it makes a handy sum, too,
Any gump could larn by heart;
Laborin' man an' laborin' woman
Hev one glory an' one shame,
Ev'y thin' that's done inhuman
Injurs all on 'em the same.
Taint by turnin' out to hack folks
You're agoin' to git your right,
Nor by lookin' down on black folks
Coz you're put upon by wite;
Slavery aint o' nary color,
"Taint the hide that makes it wus, All it keers fer in a feller
'S jest to make him fill its pus.
Want to tackle me in, du ye?
I expect you'll hev to wait;
Wen cold lead puts daylight thru ye
You'll begin to kal❜late;
'Spose the crows wun't fall to pickin'
All the carkiss from your bones,
Coz you helped to give a lickin'
To them poor half-Spanish drones?
Jest go home an' ask our Nancy
Whether I'd be sech a goose
Ez to jine ye-guess you'd fancy
The etarnal bung wuz loose!
She wants me for home consumption,
Let alone the hay's to mow,—
Ef you're arter folks o' gumption,
You've a darned long row to hoe.
Take them editors thet's crowin'
Like a cockerel three months old,— Don't ketch any on 'em goin', Though they be so blasted bold; Aint they a prime set o' fellers?
'Fore they think on't they will spout, (Like a peach thet's got the yellers,) With the meanness bustin' out.
Wal, go 'long to help 'em stealin'
Bigger pens to cram with slaves,
Help the men thet's ollers dealin'
Insults on your fathers' graves;
Help the strong to grind the feeble,
Help the many agin the few,
Help the men that call your people
Whitewashed slaves an' peddlin' crew!
Massachusetts, God forgive her,
She's akneelin' with the rest,
She, that ough' to ha' clung for ever
In her grand old eagle-nest;
She that ough' to stand so fearless
Wile the wracks are round her hurled, Holdin' up a beacon peerless
To the oppressed of all the world!
Haint they sold your colored seamen?
Haint they made your env’ys wiz?
Wut'll make ye act like freemen?
Wut'll git your dander riz?
Come, I'll tell ye wut I'm thinkin'
Is your duty in this fix,
They'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 mortals can, But I wun't go help the Devil Makin' man the cus o' man; Call me coward, call me traiter, Jest az suits your mean idees,Here I stand a tyrant-hater,
An' the friend o' God an' Peace!"
Ef I'd my way I hed ruther
We should go to work an' part,-
They take one way, we take t'other,-
Guess it wouldn't break my heart;
Man hed ough' to put asunder
Them thet God has noways jined;
An' I shouldn't greatly wonder
Ef there's thousands o' my mind.
From Under the Willows, and other Poems, we select, as being strikingly characteristic of our poet's style and vein of thought,
THE dandelions and buttercups
Gild all the lawn; the drowsy bee
Stumbles among the clover-tops,
And summer sweetens all but me:
Away, unfruitful lore of books,
For whose vain idiom we reject
The soul's more native dialect,
Aliens among the birds and brooks,
Dull to interpret or conceive
What gospels lost the woods retrieve!
Away, ye critics, city-bred,
Who set man-traps of thus and so,
And in the first man's footsteps tread,
Like those who toil through drifted snow!
Away, my poets, whose sweet spell
Can make a garden of a cell!
I need ye not, for I to-day
Will make one long sweet verse of play.
Snap, chord of manhood's tenser strain!
To-day I will be a boy again;
The mind's pursuing element,
Like a bow slackened and unbent,
In some dark corner shall be leant.
The robin sings as of old, from the limb!
The cat-herd croons in the lilac-bush;
Through the dim arbor, himself more dim,
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