Classic Poem

I'm sort of tired of things that is;
They're lackin' somewhat as to fizz.
There ain't no ginger in life's jar
With things a-goin' as they are.
The fault may be with me, and then
It may be otherwise again—
I ain't a-tryin' to fix no blame
Becuz all tastes about the same.

Howe'er it be I wish we might
Find things reversed a bit some night,
So that instead of as they be
They'd work towards the contrary.
I'd like to see some mountain rill
Have spunk enough to flow up hill,
So that old Nature might be shown
It had opinions of its own.

I'd like to see the settin' sun
Out in the East when day is done,
Just as a hint when goin' to bed
To prove it wasn't bigoted.
I'd like to hear a bull-frog sing
Like Nightingales upon the wing
Instead of that eternal “chunk”
With which he seeks his swampy bunk.

A cat that barks; a dog that miaows,
And when it comes to milkin' cows
'Twould cheer me up to get a pail
Of lemonade or ginger-ale;
And if the bucket in the well
Would give up watter for a spell
And bring me up some fresh root-beer
There'd be no kick a-comin' here.

'Tain't discontent that's vexin' me
With life so everlastin'ly
But just a sort o' parchin' thirst
To get a peek at things reversed.
They've been the same so very long
A change would strike me pretty strong,
And though I'm makin' no complaint
For once I'd like 'em as they ain't!