Ae day, as Death, that gruesome carl, Was driving to the tither warl' A mixtie-maxtie motley squad, And mony a guilt-bespotted lad -- Black gowns of each denomination, And thieves of every rank and station, From him that wears the star and garter, To him that wintles in a halter: Ashamed himself to see the wretches, He mutters, glowrin at the bitches, "By God I'll not be seen behint them, Nor 'mang the sp'ritual core present them, Without, at least, ae honest man, To grace this damn'd infernal clan!" By Adamhill a glance he threw, "Lord God!" quoth he, "I have it now; There's just the man I want, i' faith!" And quickly stoppit Rankine's breath. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ONE FAVORED ACORN by ROBERT FROST THE LAST MAN'S CLUB by JAMES GALVIN FICTION by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON OFFERING by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON TO EMILIE BIGELOW HAPGOOD - PHILANTHROPIST by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON |