Farewell To My Shanty.
Anonymous. Poems and Sketches of Nebraska, 1908.
I have made my final proof;
The cattle will hook down the walls,
And someone will steal off the roof.
Farewell to my sheet-iron stove
That stands in the corner all cold;
The good things I baked in the oven
Can never in grammar be told.
Farewell to my cracker-box cupboard,
With a gunny-sack hung for a door;
Farewell my tin spoons and tin dishes
I never shall need any more.
Farewell to my 2×4 bedstead,—
Where after my labors I slept;
Farewell to the dreams that I dreamed there
While the centipedes over me crept.
Farewell to my down-holstered rocker
With the bottom sagged into the ground;
Farewell to the shirts, socks and breeches
That filled it again to the round.
Farewell to my sour dough pancakes
No one but myself could endure;
If they didn’t taste good to the stranger
They were sure the dyspepsia to cure.
Farewell to my tea and my crackers;
Farewell to my water and soap;
Farewell to my sorghum and buckwheat,
Farewell to my lallacadope.
A final farewell to my homestead;—
Farewell to your hills and your sand;
I’ve covered you up with a mortgage—
Farewell to my quarter of land.