Classic Poem

As reckless an' roarin' a gang of rats
As ever broke jams or laws
That landed the drive at the Sanford flats
That Spring of the year it was.
An', when it was snug in the sortin' boom,
The company paid us off,
We crowded the bar for to booze consume
Like pigs at a feedin' troff.

I needn't say just where we wound it up,
That beautiful jamboree;
We'd gargled our thirst with the brimmin' cup,
As mellah as men could be.
They had a pi-anna ag'inst the wall,
The ladies had brought to town;
A wanderin' boozer whose name was Paul
In front of the same set down.

His name it was Paul. That was all we knew,
Exceptin' his brand of dope:
He guzzled enough for a lawggin' crew
An' pulled at a paper rope.
Paul fondled his fingers along the keys
An' tested her with a chord;
Then lowered his head, an' he bent his knees
An' started to play — an', Lord!

The thunder it roared like a Summer storm,
Wind whistled among the boughs;
Then skies were blue an' the sun was warm —
In meddahs we heard the cows,
In meddahs we listened to tinklin' bells,
An' far an' away we heard
The drippin' of water in coolin' wells,
An' somewhere a trillin' bird.

As soft as the stir of an evenin' breeze,
As loud as the roar of falls,
He fingered all over the ivory keys,
That boy in the overhalls.
And, when he had stopped an' he raised his head
An' give to his hair a fling,
We clapped an' we clapped, but he only said,
" I used to could play the thing. "