But de vay naix day Mistah B'ar he daid; Wen dee tell Doc' Hyar, he des scratch he haid: "Ef pahsons git well ur pahsons git wu's, Money got ter come een de Ol' Hyar's pu's; Not wut folkses does, but fur wut dee know Does de folkses git paid"--an' Hyar larfed low, Dis Ol' Doc' Hyar, Whar lib up dar Een de mighty fine house on de mighty high hill!
When ol' Sis' Judy pray, De teahs come stealin' down my cheek, De voice ur God widin me speak'; I see myse'f so po' an' weak, Down on my knees de cross I seek, When ol' Sis' Judy pray.
When ol' Sis' Judy pray, De thun'ers ur Mount Sin-a-i Comes rushin' down f'um up on high-- De Debbil tu'n his back an' fly While sinnahs loud fur pa'don cry, When ol' Sis' Judy pray.
When ol' Sis' Judy pray, Ha'd sinnahs trimble in dey seat Ter hyuh huh voice in sorro 'peat; (While all de chu'ch des sob an' weep) "O Shepa'd, dese, dy po' los' sheep!" When ol' Sis' Judy pray.
When ol' Sis' Judy pray, De whole house hit des rock an' moan Ter see huh teahs an' hyuh huh groan; Dar's somepin' in Sis' Judy's tone Dat melt all ha'ts dough med ur stone When ol' Sis' Judy pray.
When ol' Sis' Judy pray, Salvation's light comes pourin' down-- Hit fill de chu'ch an' all de town-- Why, angels' robes go rustlin' 'roun', An' hebben on de Yurf am foun', When ol' Sis' Judy pray.
When ol' Sis' Judy pray, My soul go sweepin' up on wings, An' loud de chu'ch wid "Glory!" rings, An' wide de gates ur Jahsper swings Twel you hyuh ha'ps wid golding strings, When ol' Sis' Judy pray.
O, rich young lord, thou ridest by With looks of high disdain; It chafes me not thy title high, Thy blood of oldest strain. The lady riding at thy side Is but in name thy promised bride, Ride on, young lord, ride on!
Her father wills and she obeys, The custom of her class; 'Tis Land not Love the trothing sways-- For Land he sells his lass. Her fair white hand, young lord, is thine, Her _soul_, proud fool, her _soul_ is mine, Ride on, young lord, ride on!
No title high my father bore; The tenant of thy farm, He left me what I value more: Clean heart, clear brain, strong arm And love for bird and beast and bee And song of lark and hymn of sea, Ride on, young lord, ride on!
The boundless sky to me belongs, The paltry acres thine; The painted beauty sings thy songs, The lavrock lilts me mine; The hot-housed orchid blooms for thee, The gorse and heather bloom for me, Ride on, young lord, ride on!