The Rivals

James Weldon Johnson 1871 (Jacksonville) – 1938 (Wiscasset)



Look heah! Is I evah tole you 'bout de curious way I won
Anna Liza? Say, I nevah? Well heah's how de thing wuz done.

Lize, you know, wuz mighty purty —dat's been forty yeahs ago —
'N 'cos to look at her dis minit, you might'n spose dat it wuz so.

She wuz jes de greates' 'traction in de county, 'n bless de lam'!
Eveh darkey wuz a-co'tin, but it lay 'twix me an' Sam.

You know Sam. We both wuz wukin' on de ole John Tompkin's place.
'N evehbody wuz a-watchin' t' see who's gwine to win de race.

Hee! hee! hee! Now you mus' raley 'scuse me fu' dis snickering,
But I jes can't he'p f'om laffin' eveh time I tells dis thing.

Ez I wuz a-sayin', me an' Sam wuked daily side by side,
He a-studyin', me a-studyin', how to win Lize fu' a bride.

Well, de race was kinder equal. Lize wuz sorter on de fence;
Sam he had de mostes dollars, an' I had de mostes sense.

Things dey run along 'bout eben tel der come Big Meetin' day;
Sam den thought, to win Miss Liza, he had foun' de shoest way.

An' you talk about big meetin's! None been like it 'fore nor sence;
Der wuz sich a crowd o' people dat we had to put up tents.

Der wuz preachers f'om de Eas', an' 'der wuz preachers f'om de Wes';
Folks had kilt mos' eveh chicken, an' wuz fattenin' up de res'.

Gals had all got new w'ite dresses, an' bought ribbens fu' der hair,
Fixin' fu' de openin' Sunday, prayin' dat de day'd be fair.

Dat de Reveren' Jasper Jones of Mount Moriah, it wuz 'low'd,
Wuz to preach de openin' sermon; so you know der wuz a crowd.

Fu' dat man wuz sho a preacher; had a voice jes like a bull;
So der ain't no use in sayin' dat de meetin' house wuz full.

Folks wuz der f'om Big Pine Hollow, some come 'way f'om Muddy Creek,
Some come jes to stay fu' Sunday, but de crowd stay'd thoo de week.

Some come ridin' in top-buggies wid de w'eels all painted red,
Pulled by mules dat run like rabbits, each one tryin' to git ahead.

Othah po'rer folks come drivin' mules dat leaned up 'ginst de shaf',
Hitched to broke-down, creaky wagons dat looked like dey'd drap in half.

But de bigges' crowd come walkin', wid der new shoes on der backs;
'Scuse wuz dat dey couldn't weah em 'cause de heels wuz full o' tacks.

Fact is, it's a job for Job, a-trudgin' in de sun an' heat,
Down a long an' dusty clay road wid yo' shoes packed full o' feet.

'Cose dey stopt an' put dem shoes on w'en dey got mos' to de do';
Den dey had to grin an' bear it; dat tuk good religion sho.

But I mos' forgot ma story,—well at las' dat Sunday came
And it seemed dat evehbody, blin' an' deef, an' halt an' lame,

Wuz out in de grove a-waitin' fu' de meetin' to begin;
Ef dat crowd had got converted 'twould a been de end o' sin.

Lize wuz der in all her glory, purty ez a big sunflowah,
I kin 'member how she looked jes same ez 'twuz dis ve'y houah.

But to make ma story shorter, w'ile we wuz a-waitin' der,
Down de road we spied a cloud o' dus' dat filled up all de air.

An' ez we kep' on a-lookin', out f'om 'mongst dat ve'y cloud,
Sam, on Marse John's big mule, Cæsar, rode right slam up in de crowd.

You jes oughtah seed dat darkey, 'clar I like tah loss ma bref;
Fu' to use a common 'spression, he wuz 'bout nigh dressed to def.

He had slipped to town dat Sat'day, didn't let nobody know,
An' had car'yd all his cash an' lef' it in de dry goods sto'.

He had on a bran' new suit o' sto'-bought clo'es, a high plug hat;
He looked 'zactly like a gen'man, tain't no use d'nyin' dat.

W'en he got down off dat mule an' bowed to Liza I could see
How she looked at him so 'dmirin', an' jes kinder glanced at me.

Den I know'd to win dat gal, I sho would need some othah means
'Sides a-hangin' 'round big meetin' in a suit o' homespun jeans.

W'en dey blow'd de ho'n fu' preachin', an' de crowd all went inside,
I jes felt ez doh I'd like tah go off in de woods an' hide.

So I stay'd outside de meetin', set'n underneat' de trees,
Seemed to me I sot der ages, wid ma elbows on ma knees.

W'en dey sung dat hymn, 'Nobody knows de trouble dat I see,'
Seem'd to me dat dey wuz singin' eveh word o' it fu' me.

Jes how long I might ha' sot der, actin' like a cussed fool,
I don't know, but it jes happen'd dat I look'd an' saw Sam's mule.

An' de thought come slowly tricklin' thoo ma brain right der an' den,
Dat, perhaps, wid some persuasion, I could make dat mule ma fren'.

An' I jes kep' on a-thinkin', an' I kep' a-lookin' 'roun',
Tel I spied two great big san' spurs right close by me on de groun'.

Well, I took dem spurs an'
Font size:
Collection  PDF     
 

Submitted on May 13, 2011

Modified on March 30, 2023

4:44 min read
80

Quick analysis:

Scheme AA BB CC DD EE FF GG HH DX XX II FJ KK LL MM NN OO PP XX QQ RR XX XI JJ NN BF SS TT UU FF VV TT WW XA AA X
Closest metre Iambic octameter
Characters 4,377
Words 896
Stanzas 36
Stanza Lengths 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 2, 1

James Weldon Johnson

James Weldon Johnson was an American author, educator, lawyer, diplomat, songwriter, and early civil rights activist. Johnson is best remembered for his leadership within the NAACP as well as for his writing, which includes novels, poems, and anthologies. He was also the first African-American professor at New York University. Later in life he was a professor of creative literature and writing at Fisk University. more…

All James Weldon Johnson poems | James Weldon Johnson Books

3 fans

Discuss the poem The Rivals 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 Rivals" Poetry.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Mar. 2024. <https://www.poetry.com/poem/20739/the-rivals>.

    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.
    2
    days
    12
    hours
    48
    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?

    »
    The word "poetry" is from the Greek term "poiesis", which means?
    A Making
    B Saying
    C Writing
    D Reading