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Sweetbrier

Dat Sweetbrar baby's
 de mos' onrulies' chile!
Losin' huhsef along de stream,
 or in de dus' a mile;
She's de things I disremember,
 but ma ole heart cain't fo'get,—
Lak when I's barefoot milkin',
 en do clober tops was wet.
She's de ole w'ite rose dat smell so sweet
 'longside ma cabindo' . . . . . .
En de Whip-poor-Wills, down in de woods
one time befo' de woah . . . . . .
She's de smile to de eyes,
en de th'on to de bres',—
But ob all ma flower chillun
she's de one I lub de bes'!

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