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1872–1906

‘ LONG TO'DS NIGHT

Paul Laurence Dunbar

Daih‘ s a moughty soothin’ feelin’ Hits a dahky man, ‘ Long to'ds night. W'en de row is mos’ nigh ended,

Den he stops to fan, ‘ Long to'ds night. De blue smoke f'om his cabin is a-callin’ to him “Come;” He smell de bacon cookin’, an’ he hyeah de fiah hum;

An’ he‘ mence to sing,‘ dough wo'kin’ putty nigh done made him dumb, ‘ Long to'ds night. Wid his hoe erpon his shouldah Den he goes erlong,

‘ Long to'ds night. An’ he keepin’ time a-steppin’ Wid a little song, ‘ Long to'ds night.

De restin’ - time‘ s a-comin’, an’ de time to drink an’ eat; A baby's toddlin’ to'ds him on hits little dusty feet, An’ a-goin’ to'ds his cabin, an’ his suppah‘ s moughty sweet, ‘ Long to'ds night.

Daih his Ca'line min’ de kettle, Rufus min’ de chile, ‘ Long to'ds night; An’ de sweat roll down his forred,

Mixin’ wid his smile, ‘ Long to'ds night. He toss his piccaninny, an’ he hum a little chune; De wokin’ all is ovah, an’ de suppah comin’ soon;

De wo'kin’ time‘ s Decembah, but de restin’ time is June, ‘ Long to'ds night. Dey‘ s a kin’ o’ doleful feelin’, Hits a tendah place,

‘ Long to'ds night; Dey‘ s a moughty glory in him Shinin’ thoo his face, Long to'ds night.

De cabin‘ s lak de big house, an’ de fiah's lak de sun; His wife look moughty lakly, an’ de chile de puttiest one; W'y, hit‘ s blessid, jes’ a-livin’ w'en a body's wo'k is done. ‘ Long to'ds night.

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‘ LONG TO'DS NIGHT · Paul Laurence Dunbar · Poetry Cove