I'B'EN a-kindo' @3"musin',"@1 as the feller says, and I'm About o' the conclusion that they hain't no better time, When you come to cipher on it, than the times we ust to know When we swore our first @3"dog-gone-it"@1 sorto' solum-like and low! You git my idy, do you? -- @3Little@1 tads, you understand -- Jest a-wishin' thue and thue you that you on'y wuz a @3man@1. -- Yit here I am, this minit, even sixty, to a day, And fergittin' all that's in it, wishin' jest the other way! I hain't no hand to lectur' on the times, er @3dim@1onstrate Whare the trouble is, er hector and domineer with Fate, -- But when I git so flurried, and so pestered-like and blue, And so rail owdacious worried, let me tell you what I do! -- I jest gee-haw the hosses, and onhook the swingle-tree, Whare the hazel-bushes tosses down theyr shadders over me; And I draw my plug o' navy, and I climb the fence, and set Jest a-thinkin' here, i gravy! tel my eyes is wringin'-wet! Tho' I still kin see the trouble o' the @3presunt,@1 I kin see -- Kindo' like my sight wuz double -- all the things that @3ust@1 to be; And the flutter o' the robin and the teeter o' the wren Sets the willer-branches bobbin' "howdy-do" thum @3Now@1 to @3Then!@1 The deadnin' and the thicket's jest a-bilin' full of June, Thum the rattle o' the cricket, to the yallar-hammer's tune; And the catbird in the bottom, and the sapsuck on the snag, Seems ef they can't -- od-rot 'em! -- jest do nothin' else but brag! They's music in the twitter of the bluebird and the jay, And that sassy little critter jest a-@3peckin'@1 all the day; They's music in the "flicker," and they's music in the thrush, And they's music in the snicker o' the chipmunk in the brush! They's music @3all around@1 me! -- And I go back, in a dream Sweeter yit than ever found me fast asleep, -- and in the stream That ust to split the medder whare the dandylions growed, I stand knee-deep, and redder than the sunset down the road. Then's when I' b'en a-fishin'! -- And they's other fellers, too, With theyr hick'ry-poles a-swishin' out behind 'em; and a few Little "shiners" on our stringers, with theyr tails tiptoein' bloom, As we dance 'em in our fingers all the happy jurney home. I kin see us, true to Natur', thum the time we started out, With a biscuit and a 'tater in our little "round-about"! -- I kin see our lines a-tanglin', and our elbows in a jam, And our naked legs a-danglin' thum the apern o' the dam. I kin see the honeysuckle climbin' up around the mill, And kin hear the worter chuckle, and the wheel a-growlin' still; And thum the bank below it I kin steal the old canoe, And jest git in and row it like the miller ust to do. W'y, I git my fancy focused on the past so mortul plane I kin even smell the locus'-blossoms bloomin' in the lane; And I hear the cow-bells clinkin' sweeter tunes 'n "Monkey-musk" Fer the lightnin'-bugs a-blinkin' and a-dancin' in the dusk. And when I've kep' on "musin'," as the feller says, tel I'm Firm-fixed in the conclusion that they hain't no better time, When you come to cipher on it, than the @3old@1 times, -- I de-clare I kin wake and say "dog-gone-it!" jest as soft as any prayer! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO R.K. by JAMES KENNETH STEPHEN PREPARATORY MEDITATIONS, 1ST SERIES: 32 by EDWARD TAYLOR HARMOSAN by RICHARD CHENEVIX TRENCH A SATIRE [OR, SATYR] AGAINST MANKIND by JOHN WILMOT THE LAST LOOK O' HAME by HEW AINSLIE THE QUEEN IN FRANCE; AN ANCIENT SCOTTISH BALLAD by WILLIAM EDMONSTOUNE AYTOUN AFTER SOUFRIERE by KATHERINE HARRIS BRADLEY THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: BLUEBEARD by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |