. At early candle light and other poems. WHERE THE OAK LOG CROSSED THE STREAM 32 WHERE THE OAK LOG CROSSED THESTREAM. EMORY is busy with the old folks. Likethat Bible brothers wife,We are fond of glancing backward oerthe scenes of early life;And to-night, while sitting musing, when the dusk was coming down,I forgot the children playing, and the murmur of the you called me I was driving, thro the bars and down the lane,That faithful cow of fathers, walking by her once my sun-tanned arm caressing her necks soft vel-vet skin,And telling her the secrets and the sorrows hid wit
. At early candle light and other poems. WHERE THE OAK LOG CROSSED THE STREAM 32 WHERE THE OAK LOG CROSSED THESTREAM. EMORY is busy with the old folks. Likethat Bible brothers wife,We are fond of glancing backward oerthe scenes of early life;And to-night, while sitting musing, when the dusk was coming down,I forgot the children playing, and the murmur of the you called me I was driving, thro the bars and down the lane,That faithful cow of fathers, walking by her once my sun-tanned arm caressing her necks soft vel-vet skin,And telling her the secrets and the sorrows hid withinThe deep heart of a laddie, when she turned and licked my hand,And breathed clover-scented comfort any boy couldunderstand. 3 33 34 WHERE THE OAK LOG CROSSED THE STRE7 O a whiff of mint and pennyroyal upon the air did seemTo blow from Brindles pasture, where the oak logcrossed the stream. She would meditate a moment, then the coolest place would seek,Where swaying willow branches trailed their fringes in the creek,And then set her agate hoofs in the gravels polished dip her dappled muzzle where the
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