"De garden hit's all pupple"
From an Old Garden
—De garden hit's all pupple,'scusin' de yaller'n raid,Mos' lak dis hank'chiefI weahs on mah haid.De aster an' de gol'nrod'sa-troopin' down de hill,An' ole Brer Win' ain' lettin' onhe's feelin' mighty chill!
But down in de wood's pa'f,longside de stream,Seem lak I'm a-walkin' intersomebuddy's dream.Dee ain' no birds a-flyin'ter de raid creeper-vine;De trees all hol' dey brefs,—Somebuddy's bu'nin' pine. . . . .
De dusk hit tu'ns gray early, 'nmah cannle's soon lit,But 'tain' time fo' nuffin'cep' ter rock an' ter sit,Studyin' on de col' nights,when things ain' bloom no mo'. . .Den I lights up de fiah,an' up'n shets de do';
An' I 'members 'bout a nightwhen de Lord done come,An' met wid all dem in alil small room . . . . . .Ole Win' he sen' de leaves downwid a sof', rockin' sweep . . . . . .'N I knows de garden's lak we-all—hit's des::hit's desgoin'::hit's desgoin'ter sleep!