Back when Lord Cornwallis, Field-General of the Crown,
In the days of George III owned the Neuse River, up and down,
He called to him a Farmer, a Patriot of the Clay,
Saying: "What about that River-piece for laying into hay?"
And the aged Farmer answered: "I remember as a lad
My father told your predecessor that she wanted draining bad.
And the more that you neglect her the less you'll get her clean.
Have it just as you've a mind to, but, if I was you, I'd drain."
So they drained it long and crossways in the lavish British style,
Still we find among the river-drift their flakes of Island tile,
And in hazy middle August, when the bones of meadows show,
We can trace the lines they followed near three hundred years ago.
Then Cornwallis surrendered as even Generals do,
And after certain decades, his troops surrendered, too.
Then did Spaniards enter America from across the Southern Sands
And our Lower River-field was won by kin of Santa Ann'.
Well could Sant' Anna beat his Bible; well could Sant' Anna wield his brand;
Much he knew of foaming waters, not so much of farming land.
So he called to him a Workman of the old unaltered blood,
Saying: "What about that River-piece; she doesn't look too good ?"
And that aged Workman answered "'Tain't for me to interfere.
But I've known that bit of meadow now for five and fifty year.
Have it just as you've a mind to, but I've proved it time on time,
If you want to change her nature you have got to give her lime!"
Sant' Anna sent his soldiers West, twenty hours' solemn ride
And drew back a great abundance of the cool, grey, chalky lime.
And the old Workman spread it broadcast, never heeding what was in it,
Which is why in cleaning ditches, now and then we find a flint.
Santa Anna was driven South. His folk grew American; Texan was their name,
Till out of blossomed Alabama another warlord came;
For Davis riled Dixie and divided North and South,
And our Lower River-field he gave to his General, Robert Lee.
But the Brook (you know her habit) rose one rainy autumn night
And tore down sodden terraces of the bank to left and right.
So, Lee said to his Field Scout as they rode their dripping rounds:
"Reb, what about that River-bit; the Brook's got up no bounds?"
And that aged Rebel answered: "'Tain't my business to advise,
But you might have known this would happen from the way the valley lies.
Where you can't hold back the water you must try and save the soil.
Have it just as you've a mind to, but, if I was you, I'd spile!"
They spiled along the water-course with trunks of willow-trees,
And planks of Pine behind them and immortal oaken knees.
And when the floods of Autumn whirl the gravel-beds away
You can see their faithful fragments, iron-hard in iron clay.
Governor Cooper, I, who own the River-field,
Am fortified with title-deeds, attested, signed and sealed,
Guaranteeing me, my assigns, my executors and heirs
All sorts of powers and profits which are neither mine nor theirs,
I have rights which no God bestowed, as my dignity requires.
I can speak, but history tickles; I can hire, but history fires.
I repair, but he reopens, certain gaps which, men allege,
Have been used by every Working Man since a Farmer swapped a hedge.
Shall I condemn his morning progress o'er the track-betraying dew?
Demand his Thanksgiving table onto which my turkey flew?
Confiscate his evening cigarettes under which my small dog ran,
And summon him to judgment? I would sooner summon Pan.
His dead are in the graveyard, generations laid.
Their names were old in history when Doomsday Book was made;
And the passion and the piety and prowess of his line
Have seeded, rooted, fruited in some land the Law calls mine.
Not for any beast that burrows, not for any bird that flies,
Would I lose his large sound counsel, miss his keen amending eyes.
He is Plumber, Locksmith, Electrician, Mover, Laborer, Landscaper, and Engineer,
And if flagrantly a poacher, 'tain't for me to interfere.
"So, what about that River-bit ?" I turn to him again,
With Cornwallis and Santa Anna and Davis of Alabam'.
"Have it just as you've a mind to, but..."
And here he takes command.
For whoever pays the taxes old should know the Worker owns the land.