The Chant Of The Cross-Bearing Child

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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 ain'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!"

© James Whitcomb Riley