Ah, dear my Rose, good-bye; The wind is up; so; drift away. That songs from me as leaves from thee may fly, I strive, I pray. II.-WHITE Soul, get thee to the heart Of yonder tuberose: hide thee thereThere breathe the meditations of thine art Suffused with prayer. Of spirit grave yet light, How fervent fragrances uprise Pure-born from these most rich and yet most white Virginities! Mulched with unsavory death, Grow, Soul! unto such white estate, That virginal-prayerful art shall be thy breath, BALTIMORE, 1875. ΤΟ WITH A ROSE I ASKED my heart to say Some word whose worth my love's devoir might pay Upon my Lady's natal day. Then said my heart to me: Learn from the rhyme that now shall come to thee What fits thy Love most lovingly. II 21 I 32 Uncle Jim's Baptist Revival Hymn This gift that learning shows; For, as a rhyme unto its rhyme-twin goes, PHILADELPHIA, 1876. UNCLE JIM'S BAPTIST REVIVAL HYMN BY SIDNEY AND CLIFFORD LANIER I Solo.-Sin's rooster's crowed, Ole Mahster 's riz, II Chorus. Dey's mightily in de grass, grass, Ole Mahster's blowed de mornin' horn, You's mightily in de grass, grass, De Meth'dis team's done hitched; O fool, Gear up dat lean ole Baptis' mule, Dey's mightily in de grass, grass, De workmen's few an' mons'rous slow, Whoop, look, jes' look at de Baptis' row, Hit's mightily in de grass, grass. De jay-bird squeal to de mockin'-bird: "Stop! 21 Better sing one song for de Baptis' crop, And de ole crow croak: no;" "Don' work, no, But de fiel❜-lark say, “Yaas, yaas, An' I spec' you mighty glad, you debblish crow, Dat de Baptissis's in de grass, grass, Lord, thunder us up to de plowin'-match, Yea, Lord, hab mussy on de Baptis' patch, 31 1876. THE MOCKING-BIRD SUPERB and sole, upon a pluméd spray What e'er birds did or dreamed, this bird could say. The sward, twitched in a grasshopper, made song I II Midflight, perched, prinked, and to his art again. I II 21 SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE OUT of the hills of Habersham, I hurry amain to reach the plain, Far from the valleys of Hall. All down the hills of Habersham, All through the valleys of Hall, The rushes cried Abide, abide, The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay, High o'er the hills of Habersham, The hickory told me manifold Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, And oft in the hills of Habersham, The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook stone Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl, And many a luminous jewel lone -Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, Ruby, garnet, and amethyst Made lures with the lights of streaming stone In the beds of the valleys of Hall. But oh, not the hills of Habersham, And oh, not the valleys of Hall Avail: I am fain for to water the plain. Downward the voices of Duty call Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main, And the lordly main from beyond the plain 31 41 |