I've ben thinkin’ back, of late,
S'prisin’!— And I'm here to state
I'm suspicious it's a sign
Of age, maybe, or decline
Of my faculties,— and yit
I'm not feelin’ old a bit —
Any more than sixty-four
Ai n't no young man any more!
Thinkin’ back's a thing‘ at grows
On a feller, I suppose —
Older‘ at he gits, i jack,
More he keeps a-thinkin’ back!
Old as old men git to be,
Er as middle-aged as me,
Folks'll find us, eye and mind
Fixed on what we've left behind —
Rehabilitatin’ -like
Them old times we used to hike
Out barefooted fer the crick,
‘ Long‘ bout Aprile first — to pick
Out some “warmest” place to go
In a-swimmin’ — Ooh! my-oh!
Wonder now we had n't died!
Grate horseradish on my hide
Jes’ a-thinkin’ how cold then
That-‘ ere worter must‘ a’ ben!
Thinkin’ back — W'y, goodness me!
I kin call their names and see
Every little tad I played
With, er fought, er was afraid
Of, and so made him the best
Friend I had of all the rest!
Thinkin’ back, I even hear
Them a-callin’, high and clear,
Up the crick-banks, where they seem
Still hid in there — like a dream —
And me still a-pantin’ on
The green pathway they have gone!
Still they hide, by bend er ford —
Still they hide — but, thank the Lord,
( Thinkin’ back, as I have said ),
I hear laughin’ on ahead!