Classic Poem

Dem good old days done past and gone
In old Ca'line wha I wuz bo'n
W'en my old Misst'ess she fust sayd,
“Yo's a-eatin' yo' white braid!”
Oh, dem's de times uts done gone by
W'en de nights shine cla, an' de coon clim' high,
An' I sop my soul in 'possum-pie,
Das a-eatin' my white braid!

It's dem's de nights ut I cross my legs
An' pat de flo' ez I twis' de pegs
O' de banjo up twil de gals all sayd,
“Yo's a-eatin' yo' white braid!”
Oh, dem's de times ut I usen fo' to blow
On de long reeds cut in de old by-o,
An' de frogs jine in like dey glad fo' to know
I's a-eatin' my white braid.

An' I shet my eyes fo' to conjuh up
Dem good ole days ut fills my cup
Wid de times ut fust ole Misst'ess sayd,
“Yo's a-eatin' yo' white braid!”
Oh, dem's de dreams ut I fines de best;
An' bald an' gray ez a hornet's nest,
I drap my head on de good Lord's breast,
Says a-eatin' my white braid!