Sunday, December 15, 2019

I got a letter this morning, how do you reckon it read?
Say, "Hurry, hurry! The gal you love is dead."
I got a letter this morning, I say how you reckon it read?
It say, "Hurry, hurry! The gal you love is dead."

You know I grabbed up my suitcase, took off down the road
When I got there, she was laying on the cooling board
I grabbed up my suitcase, I said I took off down the road
I said when I got there, she was laying on the cooling board

You know, I walked up close, looked down in her face
She's a good old girl, and today had her Judgment Day
I say I walked up close, and I looked down in her face
I say she's a good old girl and today had her Judgment Day

You know, looked like 10,000 people
Were standin' around the buryin' ground
I didn't know I loved her, until I let her down
Looked like 10,000 standin' around the buryin ground
You know I didn't know that I loved her
UntiI I began to let her down

You know I didn't feel so bad
Till the good Lord's sun went down
I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around
I didn't feel so bad until the good Lord's sun went down
I say I didn't have a soul to throw my arms around

You know it's so hard to love when someone don't love you
Don't look like satisfaction, don't care what you do
It's so hard to love someone that don't love you
You know you don't get no satisfaction
Don't care what you do

You know love had a fault
Make you do things you don't want to do
Love sometimes leave you feelin sad and blue
Love had a fault, make you do things you don't want to do
Love sometimes leave you feelin sad and blue

Thursday, October 10, 2019

In this lone, open glade I lie,
Screen'd by deep boughs on either hand;
And at its end, to stay the eye,
Those black-crown'd, red-boled pine-trees stand!

Birds here make song, each bird has his,
Across the girdling city's hum.
How green under the boughs it is!
How thick the tremulous sheep-cries come!

Sometimes a child will cross the glade
To take his nurse his broken toy;
Sometimes a thrush flit overhead
Deep in her unknown day's employ.

Here at my feet what wonders pass,
What endless, active life is here!
What blowing daisies, fragrant grass!
An air-stirr'd forest, fresh and clear.

Scarce fresher is the mountain-sod
Where the tired angler lies, stretch'd out,
And, eased of basket and of rod,
Counts his day's spoil, the spotted trout.

In the huge world, which roars hard by,
Be others happy if they can!
But in my helpless cradle I
Was breathed on by the rural Pan.

I, on men's impious uproar hurl'd,
Think often, as I hear them rave,
That peace has left the upper world
And now keeps only in the grave.

Yet here is peace for ever new!
When I who watch them am away,
Still all things in this glade go through
The changes of their quiet day.

Then to their happy rest they pass!
The flowers upclose, the birds are fed,
The night comes down upon the grass,
The child sleeps warmly in his bed.

Calm soul of all things! make it mine
To feel, amid the city's jar,
That there abides a peace of thine,
Man did not make, and cannot mar.

The will to neither strive nor cry,
The power to feel with others give!
Calm, calm me more! nor let me die
Before I have begun to live.