The Book of American Negro Poetry by Unknown
page 131 of 202 (64%)
page 131 of 202 (64%)
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Kaze it jes won't be denied;
Its a mos' pursistin' stubbern sortah thin'; Anti Tox' doan neutrolize it; Doctahs fail to analyze it; So I yiel's (dough I despise it) To dat res'less, wretchit fevah evah Sprin'. DE DRUM MAJAH He's struttin' sho ernuff, Wearin' a lady's muff En' ways erpon his head, Red coat ob reddest red, Purtty white satin ves', Gole braid ercross de ches'; Goo'ness! he cuts a stunt, Prancin' out dar in frunt, Leadin' his ban'. Wen dat ah whistle blows, Each man behine him knows 'Zacklee whut he mus' do; You bet! he dues it, too. W'en dat brass stick he twirls, Ole maids an' lub-sick gurls Looks on wid longin' eyes, Dey simpley idolize Dat han'sum man. |
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