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Paul Laurence Dunbar - W`en I Gits Home
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It`s moughty tiahsome layin` `roun`
  Dis sorrer-laden earfly groun`,
  An` oftentimes I thinks, thinks I,
  `T would be a sweet t`ing des to die,
      An` go `long home.

  Home whaih de frien`s I loved `ll say,
  "We`ve waited fu` you many a day,
  Come hyeah an` res` yo`se`f, an` know
  You`s done wid sorrer an` wid woe,
      Now you`s at home."

  W`en I gits home some blessid day,
  I `lows to th`ow my caihs erway,
  An` up an` down de shinin` street,
  Go singin` sof` an` low an` sweet,
      W`en I gits home.

  I wish de day was neah at han`,
  I`s tiahed of dis grievin` lan`,
  I`s tiahed of de lonely yeahs,
  I want to des dry up my teahs,
      An` go `long home.

  Oh, Mastah, won`t you sen` de call?
  My frien`s is daih, my hope, my all.
  I `s waitin` whaih de road is rough,
  I want to hyeah you say, "Enough,
      Ol` man, come home!"
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