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    Farm Ballads
    Farm Ballads
    Farm Ballads
    Ebook125 pages1 hour

    Farm Ballads

    By Will Carleton

    ()

    Read preview
    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherArchive Classics
    Release dateSep 1, 2001
    Farm Ballads

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      Book preview

      Farm Ballads - Will Carleton

      Farm Ballads, by Will Carleton

      The Project Gutenberg EBook of Farm Ballads, by Will Carleton

      This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with

      almost no restrictions whatsoever.  You may copy it, give it away or

      re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included

      with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.net

      Title: Farm Ballads

      Author: Will Carleton

      Release Date: May 29, 2004 [EBook #9500]

      Last Updated: October 24, 2012

      Language: English

      *** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK FARM BALLADS ***

      Produced by David Widger

      FARM BALLADS

      By Will Carleton

      PREFACE.

      These poems have been written under various, and, in some cases, difficult, conditions: in the open air, with team afield; in the student's den, with the ghosts of unfinished lessons hovering gloomily about; amid the rush and roar of railroad travel, which trains of thought are not prone to follow; and in the editor's sanctum, where the dainty feet of the Muses do not often deign to tread.

      Crude and unfinished as they are, the author has yet had the assurance to publish them, from time to time, in different periodicals, in which, it is but just to admit, they have been met by the people with unexpected favor. While his judgment has often failed to endorse the kind words spoken for them, he has naturally not felt it in his heart to file any remonstrances.

      He has been asked, by friends in all parts of the country, to put his poems into a more durable form than they have hitherto possessed; and it is in accordance with these requests that he now presents Farm Ballads to the public.

      Of course he does not expect to escape, what he needs so greatly, the discipline of severe criticism; for he is aware that he has often wandered out of the beaten track, and has many times been too regardless of the established rules of rhythm, in his (oftentimes vain) search for the flowers of poesy.

      But he believes that The People are, after all, the true critics, and will soon ascertain whether there are more good than poor things in a book; and whatever may be their verdict in this case, he has made up his mind to be happy.

      W. C.

      CONTENTS

      FARM BALLADS

      Betsey and I Are Out.

      How Betsey and I Made Up.

      Gone with a Handsomer Man.

      Johnny Rich.

      Out of the Old House, Nancy.

      Over the Hill to the Poor-House.

      Over the Hill from the Poor-House.          

      Uncle Sammy.

      Tom was Goin' for a Poet.

      Goin' Home To-Day.

      Out o' the Fire.

      OTHER POEMS

      The New Church Organ.

      The Editor's Guests.

      The House where We were Wed.

      Our Army of the Dead.

      Apple-Blossoms.

      Apples Growing.

      One and Two.

      The Fading Flower.

      Autumn Days.

      Death-Doomed.

      Up the Line.

      How we Kept the Day.

      ILLUSTRATIONS

      Draw up the Papers, Lawyer, and make 'em good and stout

      Give us your Hand, Mr. Lawyer: How do you do To-day?

      And just as I turned a Hill-top I see the Kitchen Light

      And intently readin' a Newspaper, a-holdin' it wrong side up

      And Kissed me for the first Time in over Twenty Years

      My Betsey rose politely, and showed her out-of-doors

      Curse her! curse her! say I; she'll some Time rue this Day

      Why, John, what a Litter here! you've thrown Things all around!

      'Tis a hairy sort of Night for a Man to face and fight

      When you walked with her on Sunday, looking sober, straight, and clean

      And you lie there, quite resigned, Whisky deaf and Whisky blind

      And bid the Old House good-bye

      Settlers come to see that Show a half a dozen Miles

      Right in there the Preacher, with Bible and Hymn-book, stood

      Over the Hill to the Poor-House, I'm trudgin' my weary Way

      Till at last he went a-courtin', and brought a Wife from Town

      Many a Night I've watched You when only God was nigh

      Who sat with him long at his Table, and explained to him where he stood

      FARM BALLADS.

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