The Portland daily press., 1888-03-20

lowing burdened heart
That only seeks to rest,
UnqueStioningly upon
loving breast
My good right hand forgets
Its cunning now.
To march the weary march
know not how.
am not eager bold,
Nor strong-all that is past,
/ am ready not to do,
At last at last
My half-day's work is done,
And this Is all my part,
give patient God,
My patient heart.
And grasp His banner still,
Though all its blue be dim,
These stripes no less than stars
Lead after Him."
| will close this paper by giving a little
Southern poetry. Probably this is not fan
sample of the average poetry of our miSkuid-
ed neighbors, but, as ] said in my first paper,
they could not put the same fire and elo-
Quence into their songs and poems that we
could into ours for the simple reason that we
were right and they were wrong. And while
our war songs are still remembered and sung
with a will, theirs are but faint and feeble
echo of the lost cause which they represent.
While our war poems are nearly all pre-
served for future generations, but few OF
those of the South were deemed worthy Of
preservation. AS the Journal can see, this
poetry is written to show up the blessings OF
the institute on of slavery, and to show that
the negroes would not be free If they could
L give it here as it was given to me twenty
five years ago:
THE SOUTHERN CHILD AND HER NURSE.
"Say maumy, have you heard the news?"
Thus spake Southern child,
AS in her nurses aged face
She upward gazed and smiled
"What news you mean, my little one,
1t mus be mighty fine,
To make my darling's face SO red
Her sunny blue eyes shine'
why, Abraham Lincoln, don't you know
The Yankee President,
Whose ugly picture once we saw,
When up to town we went,
"Well, he is going to free you all,
And make you rich and grand,
And you'll be dressed in silks and gold,
Like the proudest in the land.
ga glded coach shall carry you,
Wherever you wish TO ride,
And, maumy, all your work shall be
Forever laid aside"
The eager speaker paused for breath,
And then old maumy said.
As closer to her swarthy breast
She pressed the golden head.
"Stop, little missus, stop and think,
You're talking mighty fas,
just look up, dear, ard tell me what
You see in yonder glass;
"You see old maumy's wrinlzled face,
AS black as any coal.
And underneath her handkerchief
Whole heaps of kn0tty wool.
"My darling's face is red and white,
Her sunny blue eyes shine,
And on de little cunnin' head
DE yaller ringlets Irvine.
my child, who made dis difference
Twixt maumy and twixt you?
Go read de good Lords blessed book,
And dat will tell you true.
aDe good Lord said it mus be so,
And, darling, for one,
Will ever bless His holy name,
And say THY will be done!'
"As for the gilded carriages
Deys muffin tall to see.
My massa's coach what carries him
Is good enough for me.
81 tanks Massa Lincum all de same,
But when wants to be free,
I'll ak de Lord of glory,
Not poor buckra man like he.
'.And when at last the time shall come,
And poor old maumy dies,
Your owndear mothers soft white hand
Shall close these tired old eyes.
"De good Lord Jesus den will take
My spirit home to him.
And he will free my guilty soul
From every spot OF sin.
"And at His feet I shall lie down,
Who died and rose for me-
And then. and not till then, my dear,
Your maumy will be free.
$50, little missus, shut yer eyes
And let Massa Lincum lone,
De debil knows who belong to bin,
And he'll take care OBJ his own"