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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416920" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>When The Hearse Comes Back</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">A thing 'at's 'bout as tryin' as a healthy man kin meet<br>Is some poor feller's funeral a-joggin' 'long the street:<br>The slow hearse and the hosses-- slow enough, to say at least,<br>Fer to even tax the patience of gentleman deceased!<br>The low scrunch of the gravel-- and the slow grind of the wheels--,<br>The slow, slow go of ev'ry woe 'at ev'rybody feels!<br>So I ruther like the contrast when I hear the whip-lash crack<br>A quickstep fer the hosses,<br>When the<br>Hearse<br>Comes<br>Back!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Meet it goin' to'rds the cimet'ry, you'll want to drap yer eyes--<br>But ef the plumes don't fetch you, it'll ketch you otherwise--<br>You'll haf to see the caskit, though you'd ort to look away<br>And 'conomize and save yer sighs fer any other day!<br>Yer sympathizin' won't wake up the sleeper from his rest--<br>Yer tears won't thaw them hands o' his 'at's froze acrost his breast!<br>And this is why-- when airth and sky's a gittin blurred and black--<br>I like the flash and hurry<br>When the<br>Hearse<br>Comes<br>Back!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">It's not 'cause I don't 'preciate it ain't no time fer jokes,<br>Ner 'cause I' got no common human feelin' fer the folks--;<br>I've went to funerals myse'f, and tuk on some, perhaps--<br>Fer my hearth's 'bout as mal'able as any other chap's--,<br>I've buried father, mother-- But I'll haf to jes' git you<br>To 'excuse me,' as the feller says--. The p'int I'm drivin' to<br>Is simply when we're plum broke down and all knocked out o' whack,<br>It he'ps to shape us up like,<br>When the<br>Hearse<br>Comes<br>Back!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The idy! Wadin round here over shoe-mouth deep in woe,<br>When they's a graded 'pike o' joy and sunshine don't you know!<br>When evening strikes the pastur', cows'll pull out fer the bars,<br>And skittish-like from out the night'll prance the happy stars.<br>And so when my time comes to die, and I've got ary friend<br>'At wants expressed my last request-- I'll mebby, rickommend<br>To drive slow, ef they haf to, goin' 'long the out'ard track,<br>But I'll smile and say, 'You speed 'em<br>When the<br>Hearse<br>Comes<br>Back!'</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Whitcomb+Riley">James Whitcomb Riley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416920" data-title="When The Hearse Comes Back de James Whitcomb Riley" data-description="A thing 'at's 'bout as tryin' as a healthy man kin meet
Is some poor feller's funeral a-joggin' 'long the street:
The slow hearse and the hosses-- slow enough, to say at least,
Fer to even tax the patience of gentleman deceased!
The low scrunch of..."></div>
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