MY FIRST WOMERN

I buried my first womern

In the spring; and in the fall

I was married to my second,

And hai n't settled yit at all!—

Fer I'm allus thinkin’ — thinkin’

Of the first one's peaceful ways,

A-bilin’ soap and singin’

Of the Lord's amazin’ grace.

And I'm thinkin’ of her, constant,

Dyin’ carpet chain and stuff,

And a-makin’ up rag carpets,

When the floor was good enough!

And I mind her he'p a-feedin’,

And I riccollect her now

A-drappin’ corn, and keepin’

Clos't behind me and the plow!

And I'm allus thinkin’ of her

Reddin’ up around the house;

Er cookin’ fer the farm-hands;

Er a-drivin’ up the cows.—

And there she lays out yander

By the lower medder fence,

Where the cows was barely grazin’,

And they're usin’ ever sence.

And when I look acrost there —

Say it's when the clover's ripe,

And I'm settin’, in the evenin’,

On the porch here, with my pipe,

And the other'n hollers “Henry!” —

W'y they ai n't no sadder thing

Than to think of my first womern

And her funeral last spring

Was a year ago —