What’s as good as that there jay
  Screechin’ up’ards towards the gray
  Skies?  An’ tell me, what’s as fine
  As that full-leafed pumpkin vine? 
  Tow’rin’ buildin’s—? yes, they’re good;
  But in sight o’ field and wood,
  Then a feller understan’s
  ’Bout the house not made with han’s.

  Let the others rant an’ roam
  When they git away from home;
  Jest gi’ me my old settee
  An’ my pipe beneath a tree;
  Sight o’ medders green an’ still,
  Now and then a gentle hill,
  Apple orchards, full o’ fruit,
  Nigh a cider press to boot—­

  That’s the thing jest done up brown;
  D’want to be too nigh to town;
  Want to have the smells an’ sights,
  An’ the dreams o’ long still nights,
  With the friends you used to know
  In the keerless long ago—­
  Same old cronies, same old folks,
  Same old cider, same old jokes.

  Say, it’s nice a-gittin’ back,
  When yore pulse is growin’ slack,
  An’ yore breath begins to wheeze
  Like a fair-set valley breeze;
  Kind o’ nice to set aroun’
  On the old familiar groun’,
  Knowin’ that when Death does come,
  That he’ll find you right at home.

THE OLD CABIN

  In de dead of night I sometimes,
    Git to t’inkin’ of de pas’
  An’ de days w’en slavery helt me
    In my mis’ry—­ha’d an’ fas’. 
  Dough de time was mighty tryin’,
    In dese houahs somehow hit seem
  Dat a brightah light come slippin’
    Thoo de kivahs of my dream.

  An’ my min’ fu’gits de whuppins
    Draps de feah o’ block an’ lash
  An’ flies straight to somep’n’ joyful
    In a secon’s lightnin’ flash. 
  Den hit seems I see a vision
    Of a dearah long ago
  Of de childern tumblin’ roun’ me
    By my rough ol’ cabin do’.

  Talk about yo’ go’geous mansions
    An’ yo’ big house great an’ gran’,
  Des bring up de fines’ palace
    Dat you know in all de lan’. 
  But dey’s somep’n’ dearah to me,
    Somep’n’ faihah to my eyes
  In dat cabin, less you bring me
    To yo’ mansion in de skies.

  I kin see de light a-shinin’
    Thoo de chinks atween de logs,
  I kin hyeah de way-off bayin’
    Of my mastah’s huntin’ dogs,
  An’ de neighin’ of de hosses
    Stampin’ on de ol’ bahn flo’,
  But above dese soun’s de laughin’
    At my deah ol’ cabin do’.

  We would gethah daih at evenin’,
    All my frien’s ‘ud come erroun’
  An’ hit wan’t no time, twell, bless you,
    You could hyeah de banjo’s soun’. 
  You could see de dahkies dancin’
    Pigeon wing an’ heel an’ toe—­
  Joyous times I tell you people
    Roun’ dat same ol’ cabin do’.

  But at times my t’oughts gits saddah,
    Ez I riccolec’ de folks,
  An’ dey frolickin’ an’ talkin’
    Wid dey laughin’ an dey jokes. 
  An’ hit hu’ts me w’en I membahs
    Dat I’ll nevah see no mo’
  Dem ah faces gethered smilin’
    Roun’ dat po’ ol’ cabin do’.