Poetry Archives

I be’n down in ole Kentucky
  Fur a week er two, an’ say,
‘T wuz ez hard ez breakin’ oxen
  Fur to tear myse’f away.
Allus argerin’ ’bout fren’ship
  An’ yer hospitality—
Y’ ain’t no right to talk about it
  Tell you be’n down there to see.

See jest how they give you welcome
  To the best that’s in the land,
Feel the sort o’ grip they give you
  When they take you by the hand.
Hear ’em say, “We ‘re glad to have you,
  Better stay a week er two;”
An’ the way they treat you makes you
  Feel that ev’ry word is true.

Feed you tell you hear the buttons
  Crackin’ on yore Sunday vest;
Haul you roun’ to see the wonders
  Tell you have to cry for rest.
Drink yer health an’ pet an’ praise you
  Tell you git to feel ez great
Ez the Sheriff o’ the county
  Ez the Gov’ner o’ the State.

Wife, she sez I must be crazy
  ‘Cause I go on so, an’ Nelse
He ‘lows, “Goodness gracious! daddy,
  Cain’t you talk about nuthin’ else?”
Well, pleg-gone it, I ‘m jes’ tickled,
  Bein’ tickled ain’t no sin;
I be’n down in ole Kentucky,
  An’ I want o’ go ag’in.