Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
III. WarThe Year of Jubilee
AnonymousS
Wid de muffstash on he face,
Go long de road some time dis mornin’,
Like he gwine leabe de place?
He see de smoke way up de ribber
Whar de Lincum gunboats lay;
He took he hat an’ leff berry sudden,
And I spose he ’s runned away.
De massa run, ha, ha!
De darkey stay, ho, ho!
It mus’ be now de kingdum comin’,
An’ de yar ob jubilo.
An’ he weigh six hundred poun’;
His coat so big he couldn’t pay de tailor,
An’ it won’t reach half way roun’;
He drill so much dey calls him cap’n,
An he git so mighty tanned,
I spec he ’ll try to fool dem Yankees,
For to tink he contraband.
De massa run, ha, ha!
De darkey stay, ho, ho!
It mus’ be now de kingdum comin’,
An’ de yar ob jubilo.
In de log hut on de lawn,
Dey moved dere tings into massa’s parlor
For to keep it while he gone.
Dar ’s wine an’ cider in de kitchin,
An’ de darkeys dey hab some,
I spec it will be all fiscated,
When de Lincum sojers come.
De massa run, ha, ha!
De darkey stay, ho, ho!
It mus’ be now de kingdum comin’,
An’ de yar ob jubilo.
An’ he dribe us roun’ a spell,
We lock him up in de smoke-house cellar,
Wid de key flung in de well.
De whip am lost, de han’-cuff broke,
But de massy hab his pay;
He big an’ ole enough for to know better
Dan to went an’ run away.
De massa run, ha, ha!
De darkey stay, ho, ho!
It mus’ be now de kingdum comin’,
An’ de yar ob jubilo.