- Complaining bird, that sing'st at eve
- When all around is calm and still—
- Why wilt thou make my spirit grieve,
- And bid me "Whip poor will!"
- What has poor Willy done, that he
- Should be the burden of thy song.
- As, sitting on yon old oak tree,
- Thou chauates all night long — "Whip poor will!"
- I whipped him o ice, but ah! in vein;
- From copse and wood, from glen and hill,
- That oft-repeated solemn strain
- Still bids me "Whip poor Will"
- And though the little fellow screamed
- For being whipped he knew not why —
- Till on you heavens the starlight gleamed,
- There came that mournful cry — "Whip poor Will!"
- On other themes, oh lonesome bird!
- Employ thy deep, melodious bill,
- And let me hear some other word,
- And not "Wil "—" Whip poor will."
- For William is a pleasant boy.
- A merry-hearted, lovely one —
- His father's pride, his mother's joy;
- Why must I whip my son! — "Whip poor will"
- What! Never done! wilt always sing?
- Can no person don keep thee still!
- Has thy small harp no other string,
- Besides that "Whip poor will!"
- 'Tis even so — tis mine own thoght,
- And not thy mate, does Willy wrong!
- Then sing away — with sweetness fraught —
- Sing that coin; laining, constant song — "Whip poor Will!"
February 24, 1842. Southern Banner 10(50): 1. The text of this poem is presented as based on the best interpretation possible of the text given online within a scanned version of the original newspaper page.