Anonymous Americas Poems

If I live to be old, for I find I go down,
Let this be my fate: In a country town
May I have a warm house, with a stone at the gate,
And a cleanly young girl to rub my bald pate.
...

The devil, we're told, in hell was chained,
and a thousand years he there remained,
and he never complained, nor did he groan,
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'Oh! he's nothing but a soldier,'
But he's coming here tonight,
For I saw him pass this morning,
With his uniform so bright.
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On the unstained sward of the gentle slope,
Full of valor and nerved by hope,
The infantry sways like a coming sea;
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Upon the blue mountain I stood,
Upon the mountain as he sank into the Rivers of Night:
The camps of the clouds in the heavens were shining with
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I wish I was that little bird,
Up in the bright blue sky,
That sings and flies just where he will,
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O, praise an' tanks! De Lord he come
To set de people free;
An' massa tink it day ob doom,
An' we ob jubilee.
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With muffled drums and the flag that was furled
With the cause that was lost, when the last smoke curled
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If ever I marry, I'll marry a maid;
To marry a widow, I am sore afraid:
For maids they are simple, and never will grutch,
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"I was bat seven year alld
Fan my mider she did dee,
My father marr{.e}d the ae warst woman
The wardle did ever see.
...