Transcribed and Donated by Leslie Howard Strawn
And another family has come in
Thats living near to me,
And with them I have bargained
Over my cares to see.
This man is nearly six feet high,
Athletic, stout and bold,
His teeth are white, his eyes are blue,
Hes thirty-nine years old.
Hes what the world calls well put up,
Stands straight and is erect,
About the sort of man youd choose
A house to protect.
He weighs exact two hundred pounds,
Hes of a fair complexion,
And since I am in his care,
I feel I have protection.
He starts my fires and leaves me coal,
For me to burn by day,
To keep me warm if it should storm,
Sometimes, he goes away.
His wife is of the smaller kind,
Scarce weight a hundred pounds,
But she is of the smartest kind
At business, all around.
Shes industrious and ingenious
At every kind of work,
And never known to shirk.
She washes and she irons
And brings me in my clothes,
To be faithful, kind and hones
She seems to be disposed.
She is pleasant, kind and cheerful,
Help me, she often would,
And feeble age and blindness
Such a friends very good.
She is straight and neat in person,
And of graceful form,
In attachment she is steady,
In her friendship firm and strong.
When this long predicted, awful war commenced, I felt very bad.
Protect them, Heaven!
My faltering tongue
Could scarce to Heaven
The prayer address.
For oh, the heart
From which it sprung,
Felt the keen pressure
It bled for friends
To distance borne,
Departed, never to return.
O freedom, must they sacred tree
Be nourished still by tears and blood,
Must our expiring kindred by
Round thy reeking alter strewed?
The North and South
Have fallen out!
A shame to nations,
The South has Negroes,
The North has none,
And thats the way
This war begun.
Is the the bane
On which our people
That Negro wealth
Should be the cause,
Why should they break
All natures laws.
Must sons, grandson,
To fight their cousins,
Not their foe,
And leave their farms
And homes and labor,
To go and fight
Their friends and neighbors?
But go they must, yes, to a man,
And save the Union if they can,
The Constitution is at stake,
Good care of this, they ought to take.
Then go, ye gallant warriors, go,
Arrest destructions swift career,
In might vengeance crush the foe,
And bid your hidden strength appear.
May heaven direct each patriot arm,
And shield each patriot breast from harm,
And if the hero yields his breath,
Great God, receive his parting sigh.
And call him from the realm of death,
To purer mansions in the sky,
And sweetly may his ashes rest,
By all his countrys wishes blessed.
The Spirit of my dreams has taken a change.
That crazy old fanatic,
Called Henry Ward Beecher,
And many more such demagogues
That fain would be our teacher,
They should be placed before,
In the hottest of the battle,
Where they could hear the cannon roar
And hear the artillery rattle.
The let them call on Negroes
To help them out of danger,
And not the unoffending
And innocent white stranger.
Excuse a little slang from an old woman who has lived out three score and ten.
Abe Lincoln and Jeff Davis
And many more such wretches,
I fear will soon be lost
In old Satans clutches.
If they dont soon repent
And stop this wicked murder,
They cant expect forgiveness
Now, --nor yet hereafter.
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