A Corn-Song

On the wide veranda white, In the purple failing light, Sits the master while the sun is lowly burning; And his dreamy thoughts are drowned In the softly flowing sound Of the corn-songs of the field-hands slow returning. Oh, we hoe de co’n Since de ehly mo’n; Now de sinkin’ sun Says de day is done. O’er the fields with heavy tread, Light of heart and high of head, Though the halting steps be labored, slow, and weary; Still the spirits brave and strong Find a comforter in song, And their corn-song rises ever loud and cheery. Oh, we hoe de co’n Since de ehly mo’n; Now de sinkin’ sun Says de day is done. To the master in his seat, Comes the burden, full and sweet, Of the mellow minor music growing clearer, As the toilers raise the hymn, Thro’ the silence dusk and dim, To the cabin’s restful shelter drawing nearer. Oh, we hoe de co’n Since de ehly mo’n; Now de sinkin’ sun Says de day is done. And a tear is in the eye Of the master sitting by, As he listens to the echoes low-replying, To the music’s fading calls, As it faints away and falls Into silence, deep within the cabin dying. Oh, we hoe de co’n Since de ehly mo’n; Now de sinkin’ sun Says de day is done.

1892

More from Poet

She told the story, and the whole world wept At wrongs and cruelties it had not known But for this fearless woman’s voice alone. She spoke to consciences that long had slept: Her message. Freedom’s clear reveille, swept From heedless hovel to complacent throne. Command and prophecy were in the...

“good-bye,” I said to my Conscience— “Good-bye for aye and aye;” And I put her hands off harshly, And turned my face away: And Conscience, smitten sorely, Returned not from that day. But a time came when my spirit Grew weary of its pace: And I cried, “Come back, my Conscience, I long...

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’...

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’.” Lay me nigh to whah hit meks a little pool, An’ de watah stan’s so quiet lak an’ cool, Whah de little...

O Li’l’ lamb out in de col’, De Mastah call you to de fol’, O li’l’ lamb! He hyeah you bleatin’ on de hill; Come hyeah an’ keep yo’ mou’nin’ still, O li’l’ lamb! De Mastah sen’ de Shepud fo’f; He wandah souf, he wandah no’f, O li’l’ lamb! He wandah eas’, he wandah wes’; De...