Page:The book of American negro poetry.djvu/148

96

Jes' beyan a clump o' pines,—
 * Lis'n to 'im now!—

Hyah de jolly black boy,
 * Singin', at his plow!

In de early mornin',
 * Thoo de hazy air,

Loud an' clear, sweet an' strong
 * Comes de music rare:


 * "O mah dovee, Who-ah!
 * Do you love me? Who-ah!

Who-ah!"
 * An' as 'e tu'ns de cotton row,
 * Hyah 'im tell 'is ol' mule so;
 * Whoa! Har! Come 'ere!"

Don't yo' love a co'n song?
 * How it stirs yo' blood!

Ever'body list'nin',
 * In de neighborhood!

Standin' in yo' front do'
 * In de misty mo'n,

Hyah de jolly black boy,
 * Singin' in de co'n:


 * "O Miss Julie, Who-ah!
 * Love me truly, Who-ah!

Who-ah!"