Poem Written By Elisha P. Bosworth
09.10.2004

Poem written by Elisha P. Bosworth dated April 9, 1855 for Franklin E. Bosworth

Kind friends, if you'll please listen I'll tell you about the boys Who made that overland journey From Michigan to Illinois.

You recollect the snowstorm The day we cleared the port, It did its best to stop us But fortune cut it short. At noon we reached the plank road Then for the south-west away We steered in hopes of finding Down there a summer day. That night we stopped at Chambers And Joe built us a fire With such accomodations One need never to tire. Next noon we got to Nortons And sure as I am a sinner Says Ralph, "Lisp here they are human Let's stop and take some dinner." And so we did by jingo It didn't lack for spice For we had the girl for waiter Whom Richard thought so nice. The sky was darkly overcast By Squalls and sunshine parted When Uncle West bade us goodbye And for the depot started.

We went through Schoolcraft, Three Rivers,Constantine, Mottsville, Bristol Elkhart, Miswak, and the South Bend Where Ralph was like a pistol (off) From there I had to drive alone Through mud my slow way picking, And soon it got so awful bad that it nearly left me sticking.

I passed through many varied scenes Got frightened once by fire But found myself next morn unharmed Ready to wade the mire. Saturday night I reached the State Line And there stayed over Sunday Studied the catechism all day Took Illinois on Monday. For half the day there still was mud And once a snowbank frightful But after that the roads were good The weather quite delightful. Tuesday night found me safe home And all the people healthy They've corn and wheat and hay to spare Even those not counted wealthy.

Since then I've plowed and sowed some wheat And harrowed it in truly And should the weather still be fine It will be growing duly. We need a rain to sprout the grain And set the grass to growing To fill the bogs and please the frogs And keep the mills a going. I expect sometime next month to get A real Old Northeast blow. About the time our corn is up It'll cover it with snow. Please write when you expect a thaw And if it comes in season I'll make a fire to help you on Or else there'll be a reason. The nights are very frosty yet But folks are sowing oats I rather think you will wait a spell Lest they might want two coats. But then we will let the steel plows slide And get the ground all ready

For sowing on and dragging in Then we can take it steady. I guess that now I'd better stop So write as soon as maybe, And let me know how all get on From Grandpa to the baby. Goodnight: Give my respects to all Tell Mary to be nice And wipe her nose and keep it clean This writes your servant, Lish.

posted by Trevor Lowing
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