I--My Fathers Came From Kentucky

I was born in Illinois,-- Have lived there many days. And I have Northern words, And thoughts, And ways.

But my great grandfathers came To the west with Daniel Boone, And taught his babes to read, And heard the red-bird’s tune;

And heard the turkey’s call, And stilled the panther’s cry, And rolled on the blue-grass hills, And looked God in the eye.

And feud and Hell were theirs; Love, like the moon’s desire, Love like a burning mine, Love like rifle-fire.

I tell tales out of school Till these Yankees hate my style. Why should the young cad cry, Shout with joy for a mile?

Why do I faint with love Till the prairies dip and reel? My heart is a kicking horse Shod with Kentucky steel.

No drop of my blood from north Of Mason and Dixon’s line. And this racer in my breast Tears my ribs for a sign.

But I ran in Kentucky hills Last week. They were hearth and home.... And the church at Grassy Springs, Under the red-bird’s wings Was peace and honeycomb.