Dear Liza, I is bin down town, To Massa Charley's sto', An' all de talk dis nigger hear Is -- "niggers got to go;" I 'fess it bodders my ole head, An' I would like to kno', What all we cullud folks is done, Dat now we's got to go? I hear dem say dat long ago, To ole Virginny's sho', Dar kum a ship wid cullud folks, Some twenty odd or mo', Dey tells me dat dey hoed de corn, An' wuz good wuckers sho'; Dey made Virginny like de rose, But now dey's got to go. Dat, when ole Ginnel Washington Did whip dem red coats so, A nigger wuz de fus to fall, A-fightin' ub de foe; Dat in de late "unpleasan'ness" Dey watched at massa's do' Proteckin' ub his lubin' ones, But now we's got to go. I 'fess I lubs dis dear ole place, 'Twuz here we buried Jo', An' little Liza married off So menny years ago, An' now wez feeble, an' our lims Is a-gittin mighty slo', I'd hate to lebe dis dear ole place But den wez got to go. I don' kno' much 'bout politicks, An' all dem things fur sho', But de las leckshun I jes vote Like de white folks tole me to; Dey tole me vote for Dimikrats An' 'twould be better sho', But now dey don de leckshun win But dey sez we's got to go. Dey sez de white folks mad long us, Kas wez-a-kummin up you kno', An' sum un us is gittin' rich, Wid do' bells on de do': Dat wez get lawyers, doctors too, An all dem things fur sho': But den, it kan be jes for dis Dat we all got to go. De Lord he made dis lubly lan' For white an' black folks too, An' gin each man his roe to ten, Den what we gwine to do? We habes ourselbes, an' 'specks de laws, But dey's peckin' mo' an' mo' We aint don nuffin tall to dem, Den huc-kum we mus' go. Fur ebry nashun on de glob' Dis seems to be a hom', Dey welkums dem wid open arms, No matter whar dey from But we who here wuz bred an born, Don' seem to hab no sho'; We hoped to make it what it is, But den wez got to go. It 'pears to me, my Liza dear, Wez got a right to stay, An' not a man on dis brod uf Gwine dribe dis nigger way; But why kan white folks lef us lone, An weed dar side de roe, An what dey all time talkin' 'bout "De nigger's got to go?" "But Rastus," Liza sed, "Trus' in God, He'll brung things right fur sho', He don' hate us bekase wez black, He made us all you kno'; He lubs us if wez cullud folks, Our hearts is white an puh An' less de Lord sez, forward march! Wez not a gwine to go." | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...SPOON RIVER ANTHOLOGY: ELIZABETH CHILDERS by EDGAR LEE MASTERS IN GRANTCHESTER MEADOWS; ON HEARING A SKYLARK SING by GEORGE SANTAYANA NIGHTINGALES by ROBERT SEYMOUR BRIDGES ALL GOATS by ELIZABETH JANE COATSWORTH |