Bandanna Ballads: Including "Shadows on the Wall"
Doubleday & McClure, 1899 - African Americans - 90 pages
This collection of poems by Maria Howard Weeden is written in the regional black dialect of Alabama and includes Weeden's own watercolors of formerly enslaved people.
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ADVENT ROLL ain't angels Anna Jane AUNT JUDY BANDANNA BALLADS Banjo Song Beaten Biscuit Becase Beecher bein boat Borrowed Child bout bread brim caught CHILD'S EYES chile chunes cook damn ol Dar's dark Dat's dere Devil's Garden Dinah dough Easy Living EVENTIDE face FANCY HEARS fields Freedom gits to Heaben give Gord grip gwine hand wielding havoc HEARS THE ADVENT HOMESICK incredulous Introduction JOEL CHANDLER HARRIS knows livin long ago LOVERS AND LIZETTE Lullaby MAMMY DIES Mammy's breast Master memorial portraits MOTHER AND MAMMY never nigger OLD BOATMAN OLD NEGRO'S SOUL old plantation old-time negroes Plantation Hymn play Possum preacher quality negro Regret relish rest rhyme rich Rome saints sceptical Seemed happy shine sleeps Studio Dispute sweet Chariot Swing low tears tender Theology things tion touch UNIVERSITY OF MICHIGAN Verses white folks yellow young
Page 70 - lected, an' some ain't, An' rules don't no more mek a cook Den sermons mek a Saint. Well, 'bout de 'grediances required I needn't mention dem, Of course you knows of flour and things. How much to put, an' when ; But soon as you is got dat dough Mixed up all smoove an...
Page 10 - I've lost somehow De very chune an' rhyme. De times is changed, an' we ain't got De consolations which We're 'bleeged to have if we would cook De 'Possum sweet an' rich. De cabin an' de big fire-place Dey neither one is lef — With fires so good de 'Possum would Almos' jes' cook his se'f. I ought to think 'bout Canaan, but It's Ole Times crowds my mind, An' maybe when I gits to Heaben It's Ole Times dat I'll find!
Page 50 - Dem banjos b'longed to by-gone days When times an chunes was rare, When we was gay as children— 'case, We didn't have a care. But when we got our freedom, we Found projeckin was done; Our livin was to make— you see, An dat lef out de fun. We learned to vote an read an spell, We learned de taste ob tears— An when you gets dat 'sponsible, De banjo disappears!
Page 38 - Mister" like the res', But now dat I am going Home, I likes de ol' name bes'. Sweet voices callin' "Uncle Rome," Seem ringin' in my ears; An' swearin' sort o' sociable, Ol' Master's voice I hears. De way he used to call his boat, Across de river: "Rome! You damn ol' nigger, come an' bring Dat boat, an' row me home !" He's passed Heaven's River now, an...
Page 38 - Uncle Rome," Seem ringin' in my ears; An' swearin' sort o' sociable, Ol' Master's voice I hears. De way he used to call his boat, Across de river : "Rome! You damn ol' nigger, come an' bring Dat boat, an' row me home!" He's passed Heaven's River now, an' soon He'll call across its foam : "You, Rome, you damn ol...
Page 34 - Among the ranks of shining saints Disguised in heavenly splendor, Two Mother-faces wait for me, Familiar still, and tender. One face shines whiter than the dawn, And steadfast as a star; None but my Mother's face could shine So bright — and be so far ! The other dark one leans from Heaven, Brooding still to calm me; Black as if ebon Rest had found Its image in my Mammy ! THE OLD BOATMAN I changed my name when I got free, To "Mister" like the res', But now dat I am going Home, I likes de ol
Page 50 - The Banjo of the Past You ax about dat music made On banjos long ago, An' wants to know why it ain't played By niggers any mo'. Dem banjos b'longed to by-gone days When times an' chunes was rare, When we was gay as children — 'case, We didn't have a care. But when we got our freedom, we Found projeckin' was done ; Our livin' was to make — you see, An
Page 70 - Of course I'll gladly give de rule I meks beat biscuit by, Dough I ain't sure dat you will mek Dat bread de same as I. 'Case cookin's like religion is — Some's 'lected, an' some ain't, An' rules don't no more mek a cook Den sermons mek a Saint. Well, 'bout de 'grediances required I needn't mention dem, Of course you knows of flour and things. How much to put, an...
Page 18 - I long to see a cotton field Once more before I go, All hot an' splendid, roll its miles Of sunny summer snow ! I long to feel de warm sweet wind Blow down de river bank, Where fields of wavin' sugar cane, Are growin' rich an
Page 80 - I've always kept A borrowed chile, her size. As soon as it outgrows my chile, I lets it go, right straight — An' takes another in its place To match dat Heabenly mate. It's took a sight o' chillun, sho', To ease dat dull ol' pain, An' keep de pretty likeness fresh Of my dead Anna Jane.