YOU-FOLKS rickollect, I know -- 'Tain't so @3very@1 long ago -- Th' Old Glee Club -- was got up here 'Bout first term Grant tuk the Cheer Fer President four year -- and then Riz -- and tuk the thing again! Politics was runnin' high, And the @3Soldiers@1 mighty nigh Swep' the Country -- 'bout on par With their rickord through the War. Glee Club, mainly, Soldiers, too -- Most the Boys had wore the blue, -- So their singin' had the swing -- Kind o' sort o' Shiloh-ring, Don't you know, 'at kind o' got Clean @3inside@1 a man and shot Telegrams o' joy dee-vine Up and down his mortal spine! They was jest @3boys@1 then, all young -- And 'bout lively as they sung! @3Now@1 they hain't young any more -- ('Less the ones 'at's gone before 'S got their youth back, glad and free 'N' keerless as they used to be!) @3Burgess Brown's@1 old friends all 'low He is 'most as lively now, And as full o' music, too, As when Old Glee Club was new! And @3John Blake,@1 you mind, 'at had The near-sightedness so bad, When he sung by note, the rest Read 'em fer him, er he @3guessed@1 How they run -- and @3sung@1 'em, too, Clair and sweet as honey-dew! @3Harry Adams's@1 here -- and he's Jollyin' ever' man he sees 'At complains o' gittin' gray Er a-@3age@1in' anyway. Harry he jest @3thrives@1 on fun -- "Troubles?" @3he@1 says, -- "Nary one! -- Got gran'-children I can play And keep young with, night and day!" Then there's @3Ozzy Weaver@1 -- he's Kickin', lively as you please, -- 'N' @3Dearie Macy@1. -- Called 'em then "Then Cherubs." Sung "We are two Men O' th' Olden Time." Well! their duets Was jest sweet as violets! And @3Dan Ransdell@1 -- he's still here -- Not jest in the @3town,@1 but near Enough, you bet, to allus come Prompt' on time to vote at home! Dan he's be'n in Washington Sence he went with Harrison. . . . And @3John Slauson@1 -- (Boys called John "Sloppy Weather.") -- he went on Once to Washington; and Dan Intertained him: -- Ever' man, From the President, to all Other big-guns Dan could haul In posish 'ud have to shake Hands with John fer old times' sake. And to hear @3John,@1 when he got Home again, w'y, you'd 'a' caught His own sperit and dry fun And mis-@3chieve@1-y-ousness 'at run Through his talk of all he see: -- "Ruther pokey there, fer @3me,"@1 John says, -- "though, of course, I met Mostly jest the @3Cabinet@1 Members; and the President @3He'd@1 drop round: and then we went @3Incogg@1 fer a quiet walk -- Er sometimes jest set and talk 'Bout old times back here -- and how All @3you@1-boys was doin' now, And Old Glee Club songs; and then He'd say, 'f he @3could,@1 once again, Jest hear @3us@1 -- @3'once more,'@1 says he, -- 'I'd shed Washington, D. C., And jest fall in ranks with you And march home, a-singin', too!'" And @3Bob Geiger@1 -- @3Now@1 lives down At Atlanty, -- but this town 'S got Bob's @3heart@1 -- a permanent And time-honored resident. Then there's @3Mahlon Butler@1 -- still Lookin' like he allus will! "How you feelin'?" s'I, last time I see Mahlon: 'N' @3he@1 says, "I'm @3'Feelin'?'"@1 says, "so peert and gay 'F I's @3hitched up@1 I'd run away!" He says, "'Course I'm @3bald@1 a bit, But not 'nough to @3brag@1 on it Like @3Dave Wallace@1 does," he says, "With his @3two@1 shamefacetedness!" (Dave jest laughs and lifts his "dice" At the joke, and blushes -- twice.) And @3Ed. Thompson, he's@1 gone on -- They's a whole quartette, 'at's gone -- Yes, a whole quartette, and @3more,@1 Has crossed on the Other Shore. . . . @3Sabold@1 and @3Doc Wood'ard's@1 gone -- 'N' @3Ward;@1 and -- last, -- @3Will Tarkington@1. -- Ward 'at made an Irish bull Actchully jest beautiful! -- "'Big-nose Ben,'" says Ward, "I s'pose, Makes an eyesore of his nose!" And @3Will Tarkington@1 -- Ef @3he@1 Ever had an @3inemy,@1 The Good Bein's plans has be'n Tampered with! -- because all men, Women and children -- ever' one -- @3Loved@1 to love Will Tarkington! The last time I heerd 'em @3all@1 Was at Tomilsonian Hall, As I rickollect -- and @3know,@1 -- Must be'n fifteen year' ago! -- Big Mass Meetin' -- @3thousands@1 here. . . . Old Dick Thompson in the Cheer On the stage -- and three er four @3Other@1 "Silver-Tongues" er more! . . . Mind Ben Harrison? -- Clean, rich, Ringin' voice -- "'bout concert-pitch," Tarkington @3he@1 called it, and Said its music 'clipsed the band And Glee Club both rolled in one! -- ('Course you all knowed @3Harrison!@1) Yes, and Old Flag, streamin' clean From the high arch 'bove the scene And each side the Speaker's stand. -- And a @3Brass,@1 and @3Sheepskin@1 Band, ('Twixt the speeches 'at was made) 'At cut loose and banged and played -- S'pose, to have the @3noise@1 all through So's th' crowd could listen to Some @3real@1 music! -- Then Th' Old Glee Club marched out to victory! -- And sich singin'! -- Boys was jest At their very level-best! . . . @3My!@1 to @3hear@1 'em! -- From old "Red- White-and-Blue," to "Uncle Ned"! -- From "The Sword of Bunker Hill," To "Billy Magee-Magaw"! -- And -- still The more they sung, the more, you know The crowd jest @3wouldn't@1 let 'em go! -- Till they reached the final notch O' glory with old "Larboard Watch"! Well! @3that@1 song's a song my soul Jest swings off in, past control! -- Allus did and allus will Lift me clair of earthly ill And interrogance and doubt O' what the good Lord's workin' out @3Anyway@1 er @3anyhow!@1 . . . Shet my eyes and hear it @3now!@1 -- Till, at night, that ship and sea And wet waves jest wallers me Into that same sad yet glad Certainty @3the Sailor@1 had When waked to his watch and ward By th' lone whisper of the Lord -- Heerd high 'bove the hoarsest roar O' any storm on sea er shore! Time's be'n clockin' on, you know! Sabold, who was first to go, Died back East, in ninety-three, At his old home, Albany: Ward was next to leave us -- Died New York. . . . How we've laughed and cried Both together at them two Friends and comards tried and true! -- Ner they wasn't, when they died, Parted long -- 'most side-by-side They went singin', you might say, Till their voices died away Kind o' into a duet O' silence they're rehearsin' yet. Old Glee Club's be'n meetin' less And less frequenter, I guess, Sence so many's had to go -- And the rest all miss 'em so! Still they's calls they' got to make, Fer old reputation's sake, So to speak; but, 'course, they all Can't jest answer @3ever'@1 call -- 'Ceptin' Christmas-times, er when Charity calls on 'em then; And -- not @3chargin'@1 anything -- W'y, the Boys's jest @3got@1 to sing! . . . Campaign work, and jubilees To wake up the primaries; Loyal Legions -- G. A. R.'s -- Big Reunions -- Stripes-and-Stars Fer Schoolhouses ever'where -- And Church-doin's, here and there -- And Me-morial Meetin's, when Our War-Gov'ner lives again! Yes, and Decoration Days -- Martial music -- prayers and praise Fer the boys 'at marched away So's @3we'd@1 have a place to stay! . . . Little childern, 'mongst the flowers, Learnin' 'bout this Land of Ours, And the price these Soldiers paid, Gethered in their last parade. . . . O that sweetest, saddest sound! -- "Tenting on the old Campground." . . . The Old Glee Club -- singin' so Quaverin'-like and soft and low, Ever' listener in the crowd Sings in @3whispers@1 -- but, @3out 'loud,@1 Sings as ef he didn't keer -- Not fer @3nothin'!@1 . . . Ketch me here Whilse I'm honest, and I'll say @3God's@1 way is the only way! . . . So I' allus felt, i jing! Ever' time the Boys 'ud sing 'Bout "A Thousand Years, my Own Columbia!" -- er "The Joys we've Known" -- "Hear dem Bells" -- er "Hi-lo, Hail!" -- I have felt God must prevail -- Jest like ever boy 'at's gone Of 'em all, whilse he was on Deck here with us, seemed to be Livin', laughin' proof, to @3me,@1 Of Eternal Life -- no more @3Will@1 than @3them all,@1 gone before! . . . Can't I -- many-a-time -- jest see Them @3all,@1 like they @3used@1 to be! -- Tarkington, fer instance, clean Outside o' the man you @3seen,@1 Singin' -- till not only you @3Heerd@1 his voice but @3felt@1 it, too, In back of the bench you set In -- And 'most can feel it yet! Yes, and Will's the last o' five Now that's dead -- yet still @3alive,@1 True as Holy Writ's own word Has be'n spoke and man has heerd! Them was left when Will went on Has met once sence he was gone -- Met jest once -- but not to sing Nor to practise anything. -- Facts is, they jest didn't know Why they @3was@1 a-meetin' so; -- But @3John Brush@1 he had it done And invited ever' one Of 'em he could find, to call At his office, "Music Hall," Four o'clock -- one Saturd'y Afternoon. -- And this was three Er four weeks, mind, sence the day We had laid poor Will away. Mahlon Butler he come past My shop, and I dropped my last And went with him, wonder'n', too, What new @3joke@1 Brush had in view; -- But, when all got there, and one- By-one was give' a seat, and none O' Brush's @3twinkles@1 seemed in sight, 'N' he looked @3biz@1 all right, all right, -- We saw -- when he'd locked the door -- What @3some@1 of us, years before, Had seen, and long sence fergot -- (@3Seen@1 but not @3heerd,@1 like as not.) -- How Brush, once when Admiral Brown 'S back here in his old home-town And flags ever'wheres -- and Old Glee Club tellin' George to "Hold The Fort!" and "We" would "make 'em flee By land and sea," et cetery, -- How Brush had got the Boys to sing A song in that-there very thing Was on the table there to-day -- Some kind o' @3'phone,@1 you know. -- But @3say!@1 When John touched it off, and we Heerd it singin' -- No-sir-ee! -- @3Not@1 the @3machine@1 a-singin' -- No, -- Th' @3Old Glee Club@1 o' long ago! . . . There was @3Sabold's@1 voice again -- 'N' @3Ward's;@1 -- and, sweet as summer-rain, With glad boy-laughture's trills and runs, @3Ed. Thompson's@1 voice and @3Tarkington's!@1 . . . And @3ah,@1 to @3hear@1 them, through the storm Of joy that swayed each listener's form -- Seeming to call, with hail and cheer, From Heaven's high seas down to us here: -- @3"But who can speak the joy he feels While o'er the foam his vessel reels, And his tired eyelids slumbering fall, He rouses at the welcome call Of 'Larboard Watch, Ahoy!'"@1 . . . . . . And @3O@1 To @3hear@1 them -- same as long ago -- The listeners whispered, still as death, With trembling lips and broken breath, As with one voice -- and eyes all wet, -- "GOD! -- @3God!@1 -- @3Thank God, they're singing yet!"@1 | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE HILL WIFE: LONELINESS by ROBERT FROST EPISTLE TO ROBERT, EARL OF OXFORD, AND EARL MORTIMER by ALEXANDER POPE A SOUL; A STUDY by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI ON KEATS, WHO DESIRED THAT ON HIS TOMB SHOULD BE INSCRIBED: by PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY NOCTURNE by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH SPANISH SPRING by JEAN D. ARMSTRONG |