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Σελίδα 4 - ... keep his word. And, sure's you're born, they all got off Afore the smoke-stacks fell, — And Bludso's ghost went up alone In the smoke of the Prairie Belle. He weren't no saint, — but at jedgment I'd run my chance with Jim, 'Longside of some pious gentlemen That wouldn't shook hands with him. He seen his duty, a dead-sure thing, — And went for it thar and then ; And Christ ain'ta going to be too hard On a man that died for men. JOHN HAY LITTLE BREECHES I DON'T go much on religion, I never...
Σελίδα 1 - Of livin' like you and me. Whar have you been for the last three year That you haven't heard folks tell How Jimmy Bludso passed in his checks The night of the Prairie Belle? He weren't no saint — them engineers Is all pretty much alike — One wife in Natchez-under-the-Hill And another one here, in Pike; A keerless man in his talk was Jim, And an awkward hand...
Σελίδα 6 - The times bein' all out o' j'int, The nigger has got to mosey From the limits o' Spunky P'int ! Le's reason the thing a minute : I 'm an old-fashioned Dimocrat too, Though I laid my politics out o' the way For to keep till the war was through. But I come back here, allowin...
Σελίδα 43 - Each day to the King the reports came in Of his unsuccessful spies, And the sad panorama of human woes Passed daily under his eyes. And he grew ashamed of his useless life, And his maladies hatched in gloom ; He opened his windows and let rhe air Of the free heaven into his room.
Σελίδα 112 - As the meek beasts in the Garden came flocking for Adam to name them, Men for a title to-day crawl to the feet of a king.
Σελίδα 7 - ... left struck Vicksburg Heights, how ripped And torn and tattered we lay. When the rest retreated I stayed behind, Fur reasons sufficient to me, — With a rib caved in, and a leg on a strike, I sprawled on that cursed glacee.
Σελίδα 44 - Love brought me down to death, and death to Hell. For God is just, and death for sin is well. "I do not rage against his high decree, Nor for myself do ask that grace shall be; But for my love on earth who mourns for me. "Great Spirit! Let me see my love again And comfort him one hour, and I were fain To pay a thousand years of fire and pain.
Σελίδα 42 - At last they came to a village gate, A beggar lay whistling there ; He whistled and sang and laughed and rolled On the grass in the soft June air. The weary couriers paused and looked At the scamp so blithe and gay ; And one of them said, " Heaven save you, friend ! You seem to be happy to-day.