It am de possum time! Yes, it am de possum time! It am de time er niggah Fo’ de coon to go to clime! STICK TO YOUR RACE! Umph! how some cullahd fo’ks wan’ to be white. Bekaze dey am brack dey doan’ nebah seem right. Dey’s shame ub dey cullah; dey’s shame ub dey race; Dat’s why dey wood lak to be white in de face. Bekaze dey kain’t bleech out, O, how dey deplore, Fo’ to be cullahd to dem’s sech er bore. To think de Lawd sent dem all into dis lan’ Wif hyah dat am kinky an’ faces dat’s tan. Fus’ to de lef an’ den nex’ to de right, Dey look to see if dey am sumfin’ in sight To make dem bleech white, gib dem cheeks ub de rose An’ sumfin’ to gib dem a high Roman noze. Dey’s kickin’ an fussin’ an’ raisin turmoil Bekaze dey kain’t git hol’ de right kine ub oil To take way de kinky effect dey kaint bah, An’ make it jes’ lak de white folk’s auburn hyah. Dey use mutton sooit an’ tallow, an’ lard, Oh Lward er Mussy! but don’t dey try hard! To make it look wabey an’ glossy an’ slick. Den paht in de middle dey am right to de quick. Ef dey hain’t no hope, why dey go git a wig. It mus’ be made fum white fok’s hyah, too, by jig. Umph; who; Miss Sukie? why she wooden’ dah To wah a wig made fum a coon’s nappy hyah. Whut’s de use er kickin’ Bekaze o’ sech rot? Bekaze yo’ kain’t bleech, An’ turn white on de spot! Ef yo’ hyah’s kinky, Yo’s brack ez de tar, Thank de good Lawd Dat yo’s jes’ lak yo’ are. MEMORIAL DAY. To sound of muffled drums to-day, With slow and solemn tread; The soldiers march with banners draped Where dwell heroic dead. The blue, the gray of this fair realm Assemble o’er this land, Recount the deeds of valiant men As one vast mourning band. The rich, the poor, the high, the low, Observe this sacred day. For all alike in days gone by Have laid some friend away. For death the mighty reaper comes To rich as well as poor. Unwelcome guest though he may be, He comes to every door. To deck the graves of dear loved ones Beneath luxuriant bow’rs, Countless willing loving hands Pluck nature’s tender flow’rs. The tokens of a reverent love For friends of that blest vale, A love the ravages of time Can never change nor pale. This day recalls much of the past— The nation’s bloody wars, The sacrifice of noble lives— To make dominant the stripes and stars. In philosophic narrative, In eulogy and praise, In honor of heroic dead The speaker’s voice doth raise.