Round de meadows am a-ringing De darkeys’ mournful song, While de mocking-bird am singing, Happy as de day am long. Where de ivy am a-creeping, O’er de grassy mound, Dere old massa am a-sleeping, Sleeping in de cold, cold ground. Down in de corn-field Hear dat mournful sound: All de darkeys am a-weeping,— Massa’s in de cold, cold ground. When de autumn leaves were falling, When de days were cold, ’T was hard to hear old massa calling, Cayse he was so weak and old. Now de orange tree am blooming On de sandy shore, Now de summer days am coming,— Massa nebber calls no more. Massa make de darkeys love him, Cayse he was so kind; Now dey sadly weep above him, Mourning cayse he leave dem behind. I cannot work before to-morrow, Cayse de tear-drop flow; I try to drive away my sorrow, Pickin’ on de old banjo. Down in de corn-field Hear dat mournful sound: All de darkeys am a-weeping,— Massa’s in de cold, cold ground.
Massa's in de Cold Ground
More from Poet
-
Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Ebery where I...
-
Negro Song THE SUN shines bright on our old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys are gay; The corn top ’s ripe and the meadow ’s in the bloom, While the birds make music all the day; The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy, all bright; By’m by hard times...
-
Round de meadows am a-ringing De darkeys’ mournful song, While de mocking-bird am singing, Happy as de day am long. Where de ivy am a-creeping, O’er de grassy mound, Dere old massa am a-sleeping, Sleeping in de cold, cold ground. Down in de corn-field Hear dat mournful sound...
-
Way down upon de Swanee Ribber, Far, far away, Dere ’s wha my heart is turning ebber, Dere ’s wha de old folks stay. All up and down de whole creation Sadly I roam, Still longing for de old plantation, And for de old folks at home. All de world am sad and dreary, Eberywhere I...
-
The sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home; ’T is summer, the darkeys are gay; The corn-top’s ripe, and the meadow’s in the bloom, While the birds make music all the day. The young folks roll on the little cabin floor, All merry, all happy and bright; By-’n’-by hard times comes a-...