Page:The complete poems of Paul Laurence Dunbar.pdf/60



I've been list'nin' to them lawyers
 * In the court house up the street,

An' I've come to the conclusion
 * That I'm most completely beat.

Fust one feller riz to argy,
 * An' he boldly waded in

As he dressed the tremblin' pris'ner
 * In a coat o' deep-dyed sin.

Why, he painted him all over
 * In a hue o' blackest crime,

An' he smeared his reputation
 * With the thickest kind o' grime,

Tell I found myself a-wond'rin',
 * In a misty way and dim,

How the Lord had come to fashion
 * Sich an awful man as him.

Then the other lawyer started,
 * An' with brimmin', tearful eyes,

Said his client was a martyr
 * That was brought to sacrifice.

An' he give to that same pris'ner
 * Every blessed human grace,

Tell I saw the light o' virtue
 * Fairly shinin' from his face.

Then I own 'at I was puzzled
 * How sich things could rightly be;

An' this aggervatin' question
 * Seems to keep a-puzzlin' me.

So, will some one please inform me,
 * An' this mystery unroll—

How an angel an' a devil
 * Can persess the self-same soul?

are the toils and the wearisome marches,
 * Done is the summons of bugle and drum,

Softly and sweetly the sky over-arches,
 * Shelt'ring a land where Rebellion is dumb.

Dark were the days of the country's derangement,
 * Sad were the hours when the conflict was on,

But through the gloom of fraternal estrangement
 * God sent his light, and we welcome the dawn.

O'er the expanse of our mighty dominions,
 * Sweeping away to the uttermost parts,

Peace, the wide-flying, on untiring pinions,
 * Bringeth her message of joy to our hearts.

Ah, but this joy which our minds cannot measure,
 * What did it cost for our fathers to gain!

Bought at the price of the heart's dearest treasure,
 * Born out of travail and sorrow and pain;