G'way an' quit dat noise, Miss Lucy—
Put dat music book away;
Now, what's de use of keep on tryin'?
Ef you practise twell you're gray,
You cain't sta't dem notes a-flyin'
Like de ones dat rants and rings
F'om de kitchen to de big woods
Ez when Malindy sings.

You ain't got de nachel o'gans
Fu' to make de soun' come right,
Den you ain't got de tu'ns an' twistin's
Fu' to make it sweet an' light.
I tell you one thing now, Miss Lucy,
An' I'm tellin' you fu' true,
Now when hit comes to raal right singin',
It 'tain't no easy thing to do.

It's easy 'nough fu' folks to hollah,
Lookin' at dem lines an' dots,
When dey ain't no one kin sence it,
An' de chune comes in in spots;
But de real melojous music,
Dat jes' strikes yo' hawt and clings,
Jes' you stan' an' listen wif me,
When Malindy sings.
Ain't you nevah heerd Malindy?
Blessed soul, take up de cross!
Look heah, ain't you jokin', honey?
Now you just don't know what you los'.
Y'ought to heah dat gal a-wa'blin',
Robins, la'ks, an' all dem things,
Heish dey moufs an' hides dey faces
When Malindy sings.

She jes' spreads huh mouf and hollahs,
"Come to Jesus," twell you heah
Sinnahs' tremblin' steps and voices,
Timid-like a-drawin' neah;
Den she tu'ns to "Rock of Ages,"
Simply to de cross she clings,
An' you fin' yo' teahs a drappin'
When Malindy sings.

Now who's dat, dat says dat humble praises
Wif de Master nevah counts?
Heish yo' mouf, I heah dat music,
Ez hit rises up an' mounts—
Floatin' by de hills an' valleys,
Way above dis buryin' sod,
Til' it finds its way to glory
To de very gates of God!
Oh, hits sweetah dan de music
Of an edicated band;
Hits dearah dan de battle's
Song o' triumph in de lan'.
It seems holier dan evenin'
When dem solemn chu'ch bells ring,
Ez I sit an' ca'mly listen
When Malindy sings.

Towsah, stop dat ba'kin', heah me!
Now Mandy, make dat chile keep still;
[?], I heah de music
F'om de valley to de hill.
Let me listen, I can heah it,
Th'oo de bresh of angel's wings,
Sof' an' sweet, "Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,"
Ez Malindy sings.