Page:Poems of cabin and field.djvu/125

An' somehow my th'oat gits choky,
 An' a lump keeps tryin' to rise
Lak it wan'ed to ketch de water
 Dat was flowin' to my eyes;
An' I feel dat I could sorter
 Knock de socks clean off o' sin
Ez I hyeah my po' ol' granny
 Wif huh tremblin' voice jine in.

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