James Whitcomb Riley - My Dancin'-Days Is Over lyrics

What is it in old fiddle-chunes 'at makes me ketch my breath And ripples up my backbone tel I'm tickled most to d**h?-- Kindo' like that sweet-sick feelin', in the long sweep of a swing, The first you ever swung in, with yer first sweet-heart, i jing!-- Yer first picnic--yer first ice-cream--yer first o' _ever'thing_ 'At happened 'fore yer dancin'-days wuz over! I never understood it--and I s'pose I never can,-- But right in town here, yisterd'y, I heerd a pore blindman A-fiddlin' old "Gray Eagle"--_And_-sir! I jes stopped my load O' hay and listened at him--yes, and watched the way he "bow'd,"-- And back I went, plum forty year', with boys and girls I knowed And loved, long 'fore my dancin'-days wuz over!-- At high noon in yer city,--with yer blame Magnetic-Cars A-hummin' and a-screetchin' past--and bands and G.A.R.'s A-marchin'--and fire-ingines.--_All_ the noise, the whole street through, Wuz lost on me!--I only heerd a whipperwill er two, It 'peared-like, kindo' callin' 'crost the darkness and the dew, Them nights afore my dancin'-days wuz over. T'uz Chused'y-night at Wetherell's, er We'nsd'y-night at Strawn's, Er Fourth-o'-July-night at uther Tomps's house er John's!-- With old Lew Church from Sugar Crick, with that old fiddle he Had sawed clean through the Army, from Atlanty to the sea-- And yit he'd fetched, her home ag'in, so's he could play fer me One't more afore my dancin'-days wuz over! The woods 'at's all ben cut away wuz growin' same as then; The youngsters all wuz boys ag'in 'at's now all oldish men; And all the girls 'at _then_ wuz girls--I saw 'em, one and all, As _plain_ as then--the middle-sized, the short-and-fat, and tall-- And, 'peared-like, I danced "Tucker" fer 'em up and down the wall Jes like afore my dancin' days wuz over! * * * * * Yer _po_-leece they can holler "Say! _you_, Uncle! drive ahead!-- You can't use _all_ the right-o'-way!"--fer that wuz what they said!-- But, jes the same,--in spite of all 'at you call "interprise And prog-gress of _you_-folks Today," we're all of _fambly-ties_-- We're all got feelin's fittin' fer the _tears_ 'at's in our eyes Er the _smiles_ afore our dancin'-days is over.