“Over the Hills at the Poorhouse”
Description
"Over the hills at the poorhouse In the twilight so dim and so gray, A woman is quiely lying, Breathing her life away." She "blesses" her children while whining that they never listen; when she is buried, the children find excuses not to attend
Notes
Belden notes that there is a poem by Will Carleton with a similar title and theme, but regards them as separate (the Carleton piece, which is 22 stanzas long, begins "Over the hill to the poor-house I'm trudgin' my weary way -- I, a woman of seventy, and only a trifle gray..."), and also (correctly) treats a piece in Brown and Dean (given here as "Over the Hills to the Poor-House") as separate. One rather hopes so; this strikes me as just another "young folks these days are so..." potboiler. - RBW
References
- Belden, pp. 280-281, "Over the Hills at the Poorhouse" (1 text)
- Roud #5496
- BI, Beld280