Page:Poems of cabin and field.djvu/125

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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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