A Prayer for Joe Cotter

One for February, Black History Month.
There's a mistake in the making of this poem. I read a poem, delivered one line to me by a poem-of-the-day website, called 'A Prayer,' by Joseph Seamon Cotter.
The poem was written by JSC Jr, though the bio on the website stated he was born in 1861 and died in 1949, although those were the dates of his father, JSC Sr. JSC Jr lived 1895 to 1918, dying young of consumption.
It wasn't until after I'd drafted this that I discovered their mistake, though made no changes as it seems to me JSC Sr's life is as well deserving of memorializing as his son's.

A Prayer for Joe Cotter
When I was born,
We could afford a tallow candle,
  But they was expensive,
And when you have a tallow candle
You like to save a tallow candle,
  For when you don’t know,
We just went to bed,
The moonlight was our night light,
  And that worked only half the time

Eighty-Eight years, and
I died under electric lights,
  Saw Jim Crow burn black as the night,
Saw war, with Spain, the Hun, War II,
Saw farm machines replace the mule,
  Taught college boys not to be fools

Won’t see no change no more, I’m dead,
Walk to the Lord, my final bed,
  Oh God, give me candles to light the way,
Old moon still lights me in its shine,
  But that don’t work but half the time