The Deacon And His Daughter

Isabella Valancy Crawford 1850 (Dublin) – 1887 (Toronto)



He saved his soul and saved his pork,
With old time preservation;
He did not hold with creosote,
Or new plans of salvation;
He said that 'Works would show the man,'
'The smoke-house tell upon the ham!'

He didn't, when he sunk a well,
Inspect the stuns and gravel;
To prove that Moses was a dunce,
Unfit for furrin travel;
He marvell'd at them works of God--
An' broke 'em up to mend the road!

And when the Circus come around,
He hitch'd his sleek old horses;
And in his rattling wagon took
His dimpl'd household forces--
The boys to wonder at the Clown,
And think his fate Life's highest crown.

He wondered at the zebras wild,
Nor knew 'em painted donkeys;
An' when he gave the boys a dime
For cakes to feed the monkeys,
He never thought, in any shape,
He had descended from an ape!

And when he saw some shallow-pate,
With smallest brain possession,
He uttered no filosofy
On Nature's retrogression.
To ancient types, by Darwin's rule,
He simply said, 'Wal, darn a fool.'

He never had an enemy,
But once a year to meetin',
When he and Deacon Maybee fought
On questions of free seatin';
Or which should be the one t' rebuke
Pastor for kissin' sister Luke.

His farm was well enough, but stones
Kind of stern, ruthless facts is;
An' he jest made out to save a mite,
An' pay his righteous taxes,
An' mebbe tote some flour an' pork
To poor old critters past their work.

But on the neatest thing he hed
Around the place or dwellin',
I guess he never paid a red
Of taxes. No mush melon
Was rounder, sweeter, pinker than
The old Man's daughter, Minta Ann.

I've been at Philadelfy's show
An' other similar fusses,
An' seen a mighty sight of stone,
Minarveys and Venusses;
An' Sikeys clad in flowers an' wings,
But not much show of factory things.

I've seen the hull entire crowd
Of Jove's female relations,
An' I feel to make a solemn swear
On them thar 'Lamentations,'
That as a sort of general plan
I'd rather spark with Minta Ann!

You'd ought to see her dimpled chin,
With one red freckle on it,
Her brown eyes glancing underneath
Her tilted shaker bonnet.
I vow, I often did desire,
They'd set the plaguey thing a-fire!

You'd ought to hear that gal sing
On Sabbath, up to meetin',
You'd kind of feel high lifted up,
Your soul for Heaven fleetin'.
And then--came supper, down she'd tie
You to this earth with pumpkin pie!

I tell you, stranger, 'twas a sight
For poetry and speeches,
To see her sittin' on the stoop,
A-peelin' scarlet peaches,
Inter the kettle at her feet,--
I tell you, 'twas a show complete!

Drip, droppin' thro' the rustlin' vine,
The sunbeams came a flittin';
An' sort of danced upon the floor,
Chas'd by the tabby kitten;
Losh! to see the critter's big surprise,
When them beams slipped into Minta's eyes!

An' down her brow her pretty hair
Cum curlin', crinklin', creepin',
In leetle, yaller mites of rings,
Inter them bright eyes, peepin',
Es run the tendrils of the vine,
To whar the merry sunbeams shine.

But losh! her smile was dreadful shy,
An' kept her white lids under;
Jest as when darkens up the sky
An' growls away the thunder;
Them skeery speckled trout will hide
Beneath them white pond lilies' pride!

An' then her heart, 'twas made clar through
Of Californy metal,
Chock full of things es sugar sweet
Es a presarvin' kettle.
The beaux went crazed fur menny a mile
When I got thet kettle on the bile.

The good old deacon's gone to whar
Thar ain't no wild contentions
On Buildin' Funds' Committees and
No taxes nor exemptions.
Yet still I sort of feel he preaches,
And Minta Ann preserves my peaches.

Font size:
Collection  PDF     
 

Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 05, 2023

3:21 min read
45

Quick analysis:

Scheme ABCBDX XEFEXX XFXFGG XFXFHH XBXBII XBXBJJ FFKFAX CBXBDD XFXFFF XFLFDD XXXXMM XBXBNN KFXFOO PBXBFF LBFBPP NMNMQQ XEOERR LFXFFF
Closest metre Iambic tetrameter
Characters 3,427
Words 651
Stanzas 18
Stanza Lengths 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6, 6

Isabella Valancy Crawford

Isabella Valancy Crawford was an Irish-born Canadian writer and poet. more…

All Isabella Valancy Crawford poems | Isabella Valancy Crawford Books

0 fans

Discuss the poem The Deacon And His Daughter with the community...

0 Comments

    Translation

    Find a translation for this poem in other languages:

    Select another language:

    • - Select -
    • 简体中文 (Chinese - Simplified)
    • 繁體中文 (Chinese - Traditional)
    • Español (Spanish)
    • Esperanto (Esperanto)
    • 日本語 (Japanese)
    • Português (Portuguese)
    • Deutsch (German)
    • العربية (Arabic)
    • Français (French)
    • Русский (Russian)
    • ಕನ್ನಡ (Kannada)
    • 한국어 (Korean)
    • עברית (Hebrew)
    • Gaeilge (Irish)
    • Українська (Ukrainian)
    • اردو (Urdu)
    • Magyar (Hungarian)
    • मानक हिन्दी (Hindi)
    • Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Italiano (Italian)
    • தமிழ் (Tamil)
    • Türkçe (Turkish)
    • తెలుగు (Telugu)
    • ภาษาไทย (Thai)
    • Tiếng Việt (Vietnamese)
    • Čeština (Czech)
    • Polski (Polish)
    • Bahasa Indonesia (Indonesian)
    • Românește (Romanian)
    • Nederlands (Dutch)
    • Ελληνικά (Greek)
    • Latinum (Latin)
    • Svenska (Swedish)
    • Dansk (Danish)
    • Suomi (Finnish)
    • فارسی (Persian)
    • ייִדיש (Yiddish)
    • հայերեն (Armenian)
    • Norsk (Norwegian)
    • English (English)

    Citation

    Use the citation below to add this poem to your bibliography:

    Style:MLAChicagoAPA

    "The Deacon And His Daughter" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 28 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/19930/the-deacon-and-his-daughter>.

    Become a member!

    Join our community of poets and poetry lovers to share your work and offer feedback and encouragement to writers all over the world!

    March 2024

    Poetry Contest

    Join our monthly contest for an opportunity to win cash prizes and attain global acclaim for your talent.
    3
    days
    6
    hours
    21
    minutes

    Special Program

    Earn Rewards!

    Unlock exciting rewards such as a free mug and free contest pass by commenting on fellow members' poems today!

    Browse Poetry.com

    Quiz

    Are you a poetry master?

    »
    "Lady, make a note of this: One of you is lying."
    A Ogden Nash
    B May Sarton
    C Bill Collins
    D Dorothy Parker