Ebry day dat come, I pass
Whar de watermilyun grow
In de Massa’s milyun patch,
En dey is a sight, fo’ sho.
Dey des peeps frum out de leaves,
Playin’ hide en seek wid me;
En dey beg me come en ta’se ’em,
Des ter see how good dey be;
But I sho does pass ’em by—
Same’s I don’t know whar dey lie.
I’s a member ob de church,
En you’ll neber see me steal;
I kin sho han’ out de cash
Fo’ my bacon en corn-meal.
Dey will keep me des ez fat
Ez I eber want ter be,
En de luxuries ob life—
Heah dem milyuns callin’ me!
Don’t dey know dat I done say
I ain’t gwine take dem away?
One ob dem—he sho am big—
Prettiest thing I eber seen—
All arrayed, mo’ bright dan lilies,
In dem shades ob shinnin’ green.
He done creep frum out dem leaves
Till he close ter dis low fence,
En he beckon me ter take him—
Think dat I ain’t got good sense!
But dat coat ob him do shine,
En I wish dat he wus mine.
Wonder if he look ez nice
On de inside ez de out?
Wonder if he’s lak dem Christians
What do nothin’ else but shout?
Guess dat I could mighty soon
Bu’s’ him on a rock, en see,
If I had him on dis side
Ob de ole rail-fence wid me.
Dat I’ll do! If he’s deceivin’,
Nothin’ else ain’t wuth believin’!

He am mellow ter de co’;
Sho de heart ob him am right;
Since I gone en bu’s’ him open,
I mus’ git him out ob sight.
I would sin agin my conshuns
If I let him go ter was’e
When so many mouths is thirstin’
Fo’ de juice dey loves ter tas’e;—
Juice dat cheers de nigger’s soul
Mo’ dan all dat’s bought wid gol’.
It wus good, dat watermilyun,
But I sho am gittin’ sick;
Go en git de doctor, honey—
Go en git him mighty quick!
’Twus a dirty trick, fo’ cartin,
What de Massa gone en done,
Puttin’ strychnine in dat milyun
So’s ter ketch de guilty one;—
But I ain’t a rogue, he know—
I’s a Christian, dat am sho!