The Bridge

Wal, don't give up afore the ship goes down: It's a stiff gale, but Providence wun't drown; An' God 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 Was prowled roun' by the Injun's cracklin' tread, An' who grew'st strong thru shifts 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 vassal 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 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 pass the time, 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