The Complete Poetical Works of James Russell Lowell Part 52

THE MONIMENT

You're ollers quick to set your back aridge, Though 't suits a tom-cat more 'n a sober bridge: Don't you get het: they thought the thing was planned; They'll cool off when they come to understand.

THE BRIDGE

Ef _thet_'s wut you expect, you'll _hev_ to wait; 170 Folks never understand the folks they hate: She'll fin' some other grievance jest ez good, 'fore the month's out, to git misunderstood.

England cool off! She'll do it, ef she sees She's run her head into a swarm o' bees.

I ain't so prejudiced ez wut you spose: I hev thought England was the best thet goes; Remember (no, you can't), when _I_ was reared, _G.o.d save the King_ was all the tune you heerd: But it's enough to turn Wachuset roun' 180 This stumpin' fellers when you think they're down.

THE MONIMENT

But, neighbor, ef they prove their claim at law, The best way is to settle, an' not jaw.

An' don't le' 's mutter 'bout the awfle bricks We'll give 'em, ef we ketch 'em in a fix: That 'ere's most frequently the kin' o' talk Of critters can't be kicked to toe the chalk; Your 'You'll see _nex'_ time!' an' 'Look out b.u.mby!'

'Most ollers ends in eatin' umble-pie.

'Twun't pay to scringe to England: will it pay 190 To fear thet meaner bully, old 'They'll say'?

Suppose they _du_ say; words are dreffle bores, But they ain't quite so bad ez seventy-fours.

Wut England wants is jest a wedge to fit Where it'll help to widen out our split: She's found her wedge, an' 'tain't for us to come An' lend the beetle thet's to drive it home.

For growed-up folks like us 'twould be a scandle, When we git sa.r.s.ed, to fly right off the handle.

England ain't _all_ bad, coz she thinks us blind: 200 Ef she can't change her skin, she can her mind; An' we shall see her change it double-quick.

Soon ez we've proved thet we're a-goin' to lick.

She an' Columby's gut to be fas' friends: For the world prospers by their privit ends: 'Twould put the clock back all o' fifty years Ef they should fall together by the ears.

THE BRIDGE

I 'gree to thet; she's nigh us to wut France is; But then she'll hev to make the fust advances; We've gut pride, tu, an' gut it by good rights, 210 An' ketch _me_ stoopin' to pick up the mites O' condescension she'll be lettin' fall When she finds out we ain't dead arter all!

I tell ye wut, it takes more'n one good week Afore _my_ nose forgits it's hed a tweak.

THE MONIMENT

She'll come out right b.u.mby, thet I'll engage, Soon ez she gits to seein' we're of age; This talkin' down o' hers ain't wuth a fuss; It's nat'ral ez nut likin' 'tis to us; 220 Ef we're agoin' to prove we _be_ growed-up.

'Twun't be by barkin' like a tarrier pup, But turnin' to an' makin' things ez good Ez wut we're ollers braggin' that we could; We're boun' to be good friends, an' so we'd oughto, In spite of all the fools both sides the water.

THE BRIDGE

I b'lieve thet's so; but hearken in your ear,-- I'm older'n you,--Peace wun't keep house with Fear; Ef you want peace, the thing you've gut tu du Is jes' to show you're up to fightin', tu.

_I_ recollect how sailors' rights was won, 230 Yard locked in yard, hot gun-lip kissin' gun; Why, afore thet, John Bull sot up thet he Hed gut a kind o' mortgage on the sea; You'd thought he held by Gran'ther Adam's will, An' ef you knuckle down, _he_'ll think so still.

Better thet all our s.h.i.+ps an' all their crews Should sink to rot in ocean's dreamless ooze, Each torn flag wavin' ch.e.l.lenge ez it went, An' each dumb gun a brave man's moniment, Than seek sech peace ez only cowards crave: 240 Give _me_ the peace of dead men or of brave!

THE MONIMENT

I say, ole boy, it ain't the Glorious Fourth: You'd oughto larned 'fore this wut talk wuz worth.

It ain't _our_ nose thet gits put out o' jint; It's England thet gives up her dearest pint.

We've gut, I tell ye now, enough to du In our own fem'ly fight, afore we're thru.

I hoped, las' spring, jest arter Sumter's shame, When every flag-staff flapped its tethered flame, An' all the people, startled from their doubt, 250 Come must'rin' to the flag with sech a shout,-- I hoped to see things settled 'fore this fall, The Rebbles licked, Jeff Davis hanged, an' all; Then come Bull Run, an' _sence_ then I've ben waitin'

Like boys in Jennooary thaw for skatin', Nothin' to du but watch my shadder's trace Swing, like a s.h.i.+p at anchor, roun' my base, With daylight's flood an' ebb: it's gittin' slow, An' I 'most think we'd better let 'em go.

I tell ye wut, this war's a-goin' to cost-- 260

THE BRIDGE

An' I tell _you_ it wun't be money lost; Taxes milks dry, but, neighbor, you'll allow Thet havin' things onsettled kills the cow: We've gut to fix this thing for good an' all; It's no use buildin' wut's a-goin' to fall.

I'm older'n you, an' I've seen things an' men, An' _my_ experunce,--tell ye wut it's ben: Folks thet worked thorough was the ones thet thriv, But bad work follers ye ez long's ye live; You can't git red on 't; jest ez sure ez sin, 270 It's ollers askin' to be done agin: Ef we should part, it wouldn't be a week 'Fore your soft-soddered peace would spring aleak.

We've turned our cuffs up, but, to put her thru, We must git mad an' off with jackets, tu; 'Twun't du to think thet killin' ain't perlite,-- You've gut to be to airnest, ef you fight; Why, two thirds o' the Rebbles 'ould cut dirt, Ef they once thought thet Guv'ment meant to hurt; An' I _du_ wish our Gin'rals hed in mind 280 The folks in front more than the folks behind; You wun't do much ontil you think it's G.o.d, An' not const.i.toounts, thet holds the rod; We want some more o' Gideon's sword, I jedge, For proclamations ha'n't no gret of edge; There's nothin' for a cancer but the knife, Onless you set by 't more than by your life.

_I_'ve seen hard times; I see a war begun Thet folks thet love their bellies never'd won; Pharo's lean kine hung on for seven long year; 290 But when 'twas done, we didn't count it dear; Why, law an' order, honor, civil right, Ef they _ain't_ wuth it, wut _is_ wuth a fight?

I'm older'n you: the plough, the axe, the mill, All kin's o' labor an' all kin's o' skill, Would be a rabbit in a wile-cat's claw, Ef 'twarn't for thet slow critter, 'stablished law; Onsettle _thet_, an' all the world goes whiz, A screw's gut loose in eyerythin' there is: Good b.u.t.tresses once settled, don't you fret 300 An' stir 'em; take a bridge's word for thet!

Young folks are smart, but all ain't good thet's new; I guess the gran'thers they knowed sunthin', tu.

THE MONIMENT

Amen to thet! build sure in the beginnin': An' then don't never tech the underpinnin': Th' older a guv'ment is, the better 't suits; New ones hunt folks's corns out like new boots: Change jes' for change, is like them big hotels Where they s.h.i.+ft plates, an' let ye live on smells.

THE BRIDGE

Wal, don't give up afore the s.h.i.+p goes down: 310 It's a stiff gale, but Providence wun't drown; An' G.o.d wun't leave us yit to sink or swim, Ef we don't fail to du wut's right by Him, This land o' ourn, I tell ye, 's gut to be A better country than man ever see.

I feel my sperit swellin' with a cry Thet seems to say, 'Break forth an' prophesy!'

O strange New World, thet yit wast never young, Whose youth from thee by gripin' need was wrung, Brown foundlin' o' the woods, whose baby-bed 320 Was prowled roun' by the Injun's cracklin' tread, An' who grew'st strong thru s.h.i.+fts an' wants an' pains, Nussed by stern men with empires in their brains, Who saw in vision their young Ishmel strain With each hard hand a va.s.sal ocean's mane, Thou, skilled by Freedom an' by gret events To pitch new States ez Old-World men pitch tents, Thou, taught by Fate to know Jehovah's plan Thet man's devices can't unmake a man, An' whose free latch-string never was drawed in 330 Against the poorest child of Adam's kin,-- The grave's not dug where traitor hands shall lay In fearful haste thy murdered corse away!

I see--

Jest here some dogs begun to bark, So thet I lost old Concord's last remark: I listened long, but all I seemed to hear Was dead leaves gossipin' on some birch-trees near; But ez they hedn't no gret things to say, An' sed 'em often, I come right away, An', walkin' home'ards, jest to pa.s.s the time, 340 I put some thoughts thet bothered me in rhyme; I hain't hed time to fairly try 'em on, But here they be--it's

JONATHAN TO JOHN

It don't seem hardly right, John, When both my hands was full, To stump me to a fight, John,-- Your cousin, tu, John Bull!

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess We know it now,' sez he, 'The lion's paw is all the law, Accordin' to J.B., Thet's fit for you an' me!' 9

You wonder why we're hot, John?

Your mark wuz on the guns, The neutral guns, thet shot, John, Our brothers an' our sons: Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess There's human blood,' sez he, 'By fits an' starts, in Yankee hearts, Though't may surprise J.B.

More 'n it would you an' me.'

Ef _I_ turned mad dogs loose, John, On _your_ front-parlor stairs, 20 Would it jest meet your views, John, To wait an' sue their heirs?

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess, I on'y guess,' sez he, 'Thet ef Vattel on _his_ toes fell, 'Twould kind o' rile J.B., Ez wal ez you an' me!'

Who made the law thet hurts, John, _Heads I win,--ditto tails?_ 'J.B.' was on his s.h.i.+rts, John, 30 Onless my memory fails.

Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess (I'm good at thet),' sez he, 'Thet sauce for goose ain't _jest_ the juice For ganders with J.B., No more 'n with you or me!'

When your rights was our wrongs, John, You didn't stop for fuss,-- Britanny's trident p.r.o.ngs, John, Was good 'nough law for us. 40 Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess, Though physic's good,' sez he, 'It doesn't foller thet he can swaller Prescriptions signed "J.B.,"

Put up by you an' me!'

We own the ocean, tu, John: You mus'n' take it hard, Ef we can't think with you, John, It's jest your own back-yard. 49 Ole Uncle S. sez he, 'I guess, Ef _thet's_ his claim,' sez he, 'The fencin' stuff'll cost enough To bust up friend J.B., Ez wal ez you an' me!'