@3"Bredderin' an' Sisterin'@1— "DE Lord holps dem dat holps deyselves. Berlievin' dis tex' I toils an' delves, I makes my famberly chop an' hoe, An' you allers sees my cotton grow. When water kivers de face uv de yearf, I'm not er preachin' de secon' birf, I rolls up my breeches an' wades erbout, Buildin' er levee ter keep it out. "De Lord stooped down an' said in my year, 'Yo' crap is saved, Jake, nebber fear,' My tex' ter day is de Lord holps dose Dat holps deyselves, ez you all knows. Jess wuck an' pray, lak yer parster do, An' faif an' wucks will ca'y you fru. Yo' corn will sprout an' yo' cotton grow, An' yo' levee will keep out de oberflow." But just at this moment a form appeared In the door of the church, and a cry was heard, "De levee's dun bus', de fiel's er lake, An' dere ain't nuffin lef' dat b'longed ter Jake!" Jake took off his glasses and stood like a stone, His faith was shattered, religion gone; He glanced at his tittering flock and said, To the man in the aisle, as he scratched his head: "Ef de crap is all ruint an' 'stroyed dat way, Atter dis nigger done wuck an' pray, Ef de Lord's dun dat, I tell yer, sir, He ain't de man what I tuck him fur!" | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO MARY by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THIRD BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 17. A LOVER'S PLEA by THOMAS CAMPION ON A VOLUME OF ANONYNOUS POEMS ENTITLED A MASQUE OF POETS by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH BUILDING BLOCKS by VIRGINIA A. ALLIN TO HIMSELF; AN ODE by ANACREON THE KNIGHTS: THE POET AND HIS RIVALS by ARISTOPHANES |