THE CHANT OF THE CROSS-BEARING CHILD.

I bear dis cross dis many a mile.

O de cross-bearin’ chile —

De cross-bearin’ chile!

I bear dis cross‘ long many a road

Wha’ de pink ai n't bloom’ an’ de grass done mowed.

O de cross-bearin’ chile —

De cross-bearin’ chile!

Hits on my conscience all dese days

Fo’ ter bear de cross ut de good Lord lays

On my po’ soul, an’ ter lif my praise.

O de cross-bearin’ chile —

De cross-bearin’ chile!

I‘ s nigh -‘ bout weak ez I mos’ kin be,

Yit de Marstah call an’ He say,— “You‘ s free

Fo’ ter‘ cept dis cross, an’ ter cringe yo’ knee

To no n'er man in de worl’ but me!”

O de cross-bearin’ chile —

De cross-bearin’ chile!

Says you guess wrong, ef I let you guess —

Says you‘ spec’ mo’, an’ - a you git less:—

Says you go eas’, says you go wes’,

An’ whense you fine de road ut you like bes’

You betteh take ch'ice er any er de res’!

O de cross-bearin’ chile —

De cross-bearin’ chile!

He build my feet, an’ He fix de signs

Dat de shoe hit pinch an’ de shoe hit bines

Ef I on'y w'ah eights an-a wanter w'ah nines;

I hone fo’ de rain, an’ de sun hit shines,

An’ whilse I hunt de sun, hits de rain I fines.—

O-a trim my lamp, an-a gyrd my lines!

O de cross-bearin’ chile —

De cross-bearin’ chile!

I wade de wet, an’ I walk de dry:

I done tromp long, an’ I done clim high;

An’ I pilgrim on ter de jasper sky,

An’ I taken de resk fo’ ter cas’ my eye

Wha’ de Gate swing wide an’ de Lord draw nigh,

An’ de Trump hit blow, an’ I hear de cry,—

“You lay dat cross down by an’ by!—

O de Cross-bearin’ Chile —

Do Cross-bearin’ Chile!”