De Days Dat Are Gone

I T’ink of childhood days again, An’ wish dat I was free To res’ me baby head once more Upon me mudder’s knee: If we had power to change dis life An’ live it back again, We would be children all de time Nor fret at childhood’s pain. I look on my school life of old, Dem sweet days dat are pas’, An’ wonder how I’d wish to see Those dear times en’ at las’: It was because I was a boy, An’ knew not what b’en good; All time I tas’e de supple-jack, Bein’ I was so rude. An’ o’ de marnings when I woke, ’Fo’ you can see you’ han’, I mek me way on to de spring Fe full me bucket-pan: I t’ought ofttimes dat it was hard For me to wake so soon; Dere was no star fe light de way, Much more de white roun’ moon. Still, childhood pain could neber las’, An’ i remember yet De many sorrows ’cross me pat’ Dat neber mek me fret: But now me joys are only few, I live because I’m boun’, An’ try fe mek my life of use Though pain lie all aroun’.