Dat nigger shaved 'em off as short as wash-day-dinner

graces;

An' sorted ob 'em by de size, f'om little E's to basses.

He strung her, tuned her, struck a jig, 'twuz "Nebber min' de wedder,".

220

She soun' like forty-lebben bands a-playin' all toged

der;

Some went to pattin'; some to dancin': Noah called de figgers;

An' Ham he sot an' knocked de tune, de happiest ob niggers!

Now, sence dat time—it's mighty strange-dere's not de slightes' showin'

Ob any ha'r at all upon de 'possum's tail a-growin'; An' curi's, too, dat nigger's ways: his people nebber los' 'em

Fur whar you finds de nigger-dar's de banjo an' de 'possum !

The night is spent; and as the day
Throws up the first faint flash of gray,
The guests pursue their homeward way;
And through the field beyond the gin,

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Just as the stars are going in,

See Santa Claus departing-grieving-
His own dear Land of Cotton leaving.
His work is done; he fain would rest
Where people know and love him best.
He pauses, listens, looks about;

But
go
So, coughing down the rising tears,
He climbs the fence and disappears.
And thus observes a colored youth
(The common sentiment, in sooth):
"Oh! what a blessin' 'tw'u'd ha' been,
Ef Santy had been born a twin!
We'd hab two Chrismuses a yeah-
Or p'r'aps one brudder'd settle heah!”

he must: his pass is out.

24C

SIDNEY LANIER

SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE1

Out of the hills of 'Habersham,
Down the valleys of Hall,
I hurry amain to reach the plain,
Run the rapid and leap the fall,
Split at the rock and together again,
Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,
And flee from folly on every side
With a lover's pain to attain the plain
Far from the hills of Habersham,
Far from the valleys of Hall.

All down the hills of Habersham,

All through the valleys of Hall,
The rushes cried Abide, abide,

The willful waterweeds held me thrall,
The laving laurels turned my tide,

The ferns and the fondling grass said Stay,

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1 From Poems of Sidney Lanier. Copyright 1884, 1891, by Mary D. Lanier, and published by Charles Scribner's Sons.

The dewberry dipped for to work delay,
And the little reeds sighed Abide, abide,
Here in the hills of Habersham,
Here in the valleys of Hall.

High o'er the hills of Habersham,
Veiling the valleys of Hall,
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,
Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,
Said, Pass not, so cold, these manifold
Deep shades of the hills of Habersham,
These glades in the valleys of Hall.

And oft in the hills of Habersham,

And oft in the valleys of Hall,

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 clefts of the hills of Habersham,

In the beds of the valleys of Hall.

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30

40

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,
The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,
And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,

And the lordly main from beyond the plain
Calls o'er the hills of Habersham,

Calls through the valleys of Hall.

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THE MARSHES OF GLYNN1

Glooms of the live-oaks, beautiful-braided and woven With intricate shades of the vines that myriad-cloven Clamber the forks of the multiform boughs,

Emerald twilights,

Virginal shy lights,

Wrought of the leaves to allure to the whisper of

Vows,

When lovers pace timidly down through the green colonnades

1 From Poems of Sidney Lanier. Copyright 1884, 1891, by Mary D. Lanier, and published by Charles Scribner's Sons.

G