DULCIMER over the fireboard, hanging sence allusago, Strangers are wishful to buy you, and make of your music a show: Not while the selling a heart for a gold-piece is reckoned a sin, Not while the word of old Enoch still stands as a law for his kin. Grandsir' he made you in Breathitt, the while he was courting a maid. Nary a one of his offsprings, right down to the least one, but played, Played and passed on to his people, with only the song to abide, Long-ago songs of Old England, whose lads we're now fighting beside. There you'll be hanging to greet him, when Jasper comes home from the fight. Nary a letter he's writ us, but he'll be a-coming, all right. Jasper's the last of the Logans. Hit's reason to think that he'll beat, Beat and beget sons and daughters to sing the old songs at his feet. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IMPERCIPIENT (AT A CATHEDRAL SERVICE) by THOMAS HARDY MIDWINTER BLUES by JAMES LANGSTON HUGHES AT MAGNOLIA CEMETERY by HENRY TIMROD AN UNTIMELY THOUGHT by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH HAWTHORN by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN FIVE LITTLE WANDERINGS: 3. YOUTH by BERTON BRALEY |