Hunting Song

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Tek a cool night, good an' cleah,
  Skiff o' snow upon de groun';
  Jes' 'bout fall-time o' de yeah
  W'en de leaves is dry an brown;
  Tek a dog an' tek a axe,
  Tek a lantu'n in yo' han',
  Step light whah de switches cracks,
  Fu' dey 's huntin' in de lan'.
  Down thoo de valleys an' ovah de hills,
  Into de woods whah de 'simmon-tree grows,
  Wakin' an' skeerin' de po' whippo'wills,
  Huntin' fu' coon an' fu' 'possum we goes.

  Blow dat ho'n dah loud an' strong,
  Call de dogs an' da'kies neah;
  Mek its music cleah an' long,
  So de folks at home kin hyeah.
  Blow it twell de hills an' trees
  Sen's de echoes tumblin' back;
  Blow it twell de back'ard breeze
  Tells de folks we 's on de track.
  Coons is a-ramblin' an' 'possums is out;
  Look at dat dog; you could set on his tail!
  Watch him now--steady,--min'--what you 's about,
  Bless me, dat animal's got on de trail!

  Listen to him ba'kin now!
  Dat means bus'ness, sho 's you bo'n;
  Ef he's struck de scent I 'low
  Dat ere 'possum's sholy gone.
  Knowed dat dog fu' fo'teen yeahs,
  An' I nevah seed him fail
  Wen he sot dem flappin' eahs
  An' went off upon a trail.
  Run, Mistah 'Possum, an' run, Mistah Coon,
  No place is safe fu' yo' ramblin' to-night;
  Mas' gin' de lantu'n an' God gin de moon,
  An' a long hunt gins a good appetite.

  Look hyeah, folks, you hyeah dat change?
  Dat ba'k is sha'per dan de res'.
  Dat ere soun' ain't nothin' strange,--
  Dat dog's talked his level bes'.
  Somep'n' 's treed, I know de soun'.
  Dah now,--wha 'd I tell you? see!
  Dat ere dog done run him down;
  Come hyeah, he'p cut down dis tree.
  Ah, Mistah 'Possum, we got you at las'--
  Need n't play daid, laying dah on de groun';
  Fros' an' de 'simmons has made you grow fas',--
  Won't he be fine when he's roasted up brown!

© Paul Laurence Dunbar