Classic and Contemporary Poetry
THE DAYS OF '49, by CHARLEY RHODES First Line: Here you see old tom moore Last Line: In the days of '49. Subject(s): California - Gold Discoveries; Gold Rush; Forty-niners | ||||||||
Here you see old Tom Moore A relic of bygone days, A bummer too they call me now, But what care I for praise For my heart is filled with woe, And I often grieve and pine, For the days of old, the days of gold, The days of '49. For the days of gold, the days of old, the days of '49. I had comrades then a saucy set, They were rough I must confess But staunch and brave, as true as steel, Like hunters from the west; But they like many another fish, Have now run out of line; But like good old bricks they stood the kicks, Of the days of '49. There was Monte Pete, I'll ne'er forget The luck that he always had, He'd deal for you both night and day, Or as long as you had a scad. One night a pistol laid him out, 'Twas his last lay out in fine, It caught Pete sure, right bang in the door, In the days of '49. There was another chap from New Orleans, Big Reuben was his name, On the plaza there with a sardine box He opened a faro game, He dealt so fair that a millionaire He became in course of time, Till death stept in and called the turn In the days of '49. There was Kentuck Bill, one of the boys Who was always in for a game; No matter whether he lost or won, To him 'twas all the same, He'd ante a slug; he'd pass the buck; He'd go for a hat full blind. In the game of death Bill lost his breath In the days of '49. There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, So fond of getting tight; Whenever Jake got full of gin He was looking for a fight. One night he ran against a knife In the hands of old Bob Kline And over Jake we had a wake In the days of '49. There was North Carolina Jess, a hard old case, Who never would repent. Jess was never known to miss a meal, Or ever pay a cent. But poor old Jess like all the rest, To death did at last resign, And in his bloom he went up the flume In the days of '49. There was Rackensack Jim who could out roar A buffalo bull you bet, He roared all night; he roared all day; He may be roaring yet. One night he fell in prospect hole, 'Twas a roaring bad design, And in that hole Jim roared out his soul In the days of '49. Of all the comrades I had then There's none left now but me, And the only thing I'm fitting for Is a Senator to be; The people cry as I pass by, "There goes a traveling sign; That's old Tom Moore, a bummer sure, Of the days of '49." Since that time how things have changed In this land of liberty, Darkies didn't vote nor plead in court Nor rule this country, But the Chinese question, the worst of all In those days did not shine, For the country was right and the boys all white In the days of '49. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE GOLD-SEEKERS by HAMLIN GARLAND A GOLDEN DREAM by KATHRYN ROESER DUNLAP SUTTER'S FORT, SACRAMENTO by LUCIUS HARWOOD FOOTE BALLAD OF THE GOLD COUNTRY by HELEN MARIA HUNT FISKE JACKSON THE GOLD THAT GREW BY SHASTA TOWN by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE MEN OF FORTY-NINE by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER TO THE PIONEERS by CINCINNATUS HEINE MILLER THE YUKON'S SONG OF THE GOLD by AMELIA WOODWARD TRUESDELL THE OVIDIAN ELEGIAC METRE, DESCRIBED AND EXEMPLIFIED by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE |
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