Dar’s a lazy, sortah hazy
Feelin’ grips me, thoo an’ thoo;
An’ I feels lak doin’ less dan enythin’;
Dough de saw is sharp an’ greasy,
Dough de task et han’ is easy,
An’ de day am fair an’ breezy,
Dar’s a thief dat steals embition in de win’.
Kaint defy it, kaint deny it,
Kaze it jes won’t be denied;
It’s a mos’ pursistin’ stubbern sortah thin’;
Anti Tox’ doan neutrolize it;
Doctahs fail to analyze it;
So I yiel’s (dough I despise it)
To dat res’less, wretchit fevah evah Sprin’.
From The Book of American Negro Poetry (Harcourt, Brace and Company, 1922), edited by James Weldon Johnson. This poem is in the public domain.