Stedman and Hutchinson, comps. A Library of American Literature:
An Anthology in Eleven Volumes. 1891.
Vols. IX–XI: Literature of the Republic, Part IV., 1861–1889
De Sperience ob de Rebrend Quawko Strong
By Frederick Henry Pilch (18421889)S
Ring de big bell, beat de gong,
Saints an’ martyrs den will meet dair
Brudder, Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Tell de elders, loud an’ long,
“Cl’ar out dem high seats of Hebben,
Here comes Reb’rend Quawko Strong.”
Arms present de line along;
Let de band play “Conkerin’ Hero,”
For de Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Palms an’ weddin’ gown along,
Wid percession to de landin’;
Here’s de Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Sing your good Ole Hunderd song,
Let de seraphs dance wid cymbals
’Roun’ de Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Tribes an’ banners musterin’ strong—
Speech ob welcome from ole Abram;
Answer, Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Hear my dulcem sperritool song;
Halleluyer! I’m a-comin’!
I’m de Reb’rend Quawko Strong!
An’ de waist-belt ’stronery long,
‘Cause ’twill take some room in glory
For de Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
’Pears like suffin’-nudder’s wrong;
Guess I’ll gib dat sleepy Peter
Fits—from Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Out ob all de shinin’ frong
Not a mulatter cherub eben
Greets the Reb’rend Quawko Strong!
My! dat gate am hard to move.
“Who am dat?” says ’Postle Peter
From de parapet above.
Me, a shinin’ light so long?
Why, de berry niggers call me
Good ole Reb’rend Quawko Strong.
Reg’lar hull-hog Wesleyan, too;
Whar in de woods you been a-loafin’?
Some ole rooster’s boddered you,
Hunderds o’ darkies in a frong!
Dunno me, nor yit my Masser!
Deny Deacon Quawko Strong!
Far away, but a-rollin’ nigher;
See de drefful dragon flyin’,
Head like night, an’ mouf ob fire!
An’ he’m rushin’ right along.
O, dear Peter, please to open
To Classleader Quawko Strong.
Gettin’ warmer all about.
O, my good, kind Kurnal Peter,
Let me in, I’m all too stout
Into dat warm climate, ’mong
Fire an’ brimstone. Hear me knockin’,
Ole Churchmember Quawko Strong.
Drefful smell, like powder smoke;
Nudder screech! Good Hebben help me!
Lor’ forgib dis pore ole moke.
Singin’ an’ prayin’ extry long;
Now de Debbil’s gwine to cotch me,
Pore ole nigger, Quawko Strong.
Mighty squeezin’ to git froo!
Ole Apollyon howlin’ louder,
Eberyting aroun’ am blue.
Bunch ob wool upon his prong,
Goes ’long home widout de soul ob
Mis’abul sinner, name ob Strong.