Page:The complete poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar.pdf/55

 More time than tune—from the corn-stalk fiddle.

Then brother Jabez takes the bow,
 * While Ned stands off with Susan Bland,

Then Henry stops by Milly Snow,
 * And John takes Nellie Jones's hand,

While I pair off with Mandy Biddle, And scrape, scrape, scrape goes the corn-stalk fiddle.

"Salute your partners," comes the call,
 * "All join hands and circle round,"

"Grand train back," and "Balance all,"
 * Footsteps lightly spurn the ground.

"Take your lady and balance down the middle " To the merry strains of the corn-stalk fiddle.

So the night goes on and the dance is o'er,
 * And the merry girls are homeward gone,

But I see it all in my sleep once more,
 * And I dream till the very break of dawn

Of an impish dance on a red-hot griddle To the screech and scrape of a corn-stalk fiddle.

An old, worn harp that had been played Till all its strings were loose and frayed, Joy, Hate, and Fear, each one essayed, To play. But each in turn had found No sweet responsiveness of sound.

Then Love the Master-Player came With heaving breast and eyes aflame; The Harp he took all undismayed, Smote on its strings, still strange to song, And brought forth music sweet and strong.

I was not; now I am—a few days hence I shall not be; I fain would look before And after, but can neither do; some Power Or lack of power says "no" to all I would. I stand upon a wide and sunless plain,