. Out-door reveries. eisure; And madly race, In eager chase,The throng in search of pleasure. Thus many find— To ease the mind—When all the world looks glum; And make life sweet, The greatest treat,Is loafin with a gun. When mornings breeze Sifts through the trees,And stubble fields are brown; Aurora wiles, All tears and smiles,My wayward feet from town. And rising sun, Thats just begun,To set the wheels all rolling, Gilds frosted leaf Beyond belief—Adds pleasure to my strolling. 46 Outdoor Reveries With gun and dog, Through field and bog,My zig-zag course is spun, All round entwined, With joy
. Out-door reveries. eisure; And madly race, In eager chase,The throng in search of pleasure. Thus many find— To ease the mind—When all the world looks glum; And make life sweet, The greatest treat,Is loafin with a gun. When mornings breeze Sifts through the trees,And stubble fields are brown; Aurora wiles, All tears and smiles,My wayward feet from town. And rising sun, Thats just begun,To set the wheels all rolling, Gilds frosted leaf Beyond belief—Adds pleasure to my strolling. 46 Outdoor Reveries With gun and dog, Through field and bog,My zig-zag course is spun, All round entwined, With joys I find,Jus loafin with a gun. Let misers hoard. Who can affordTo spurn lifes choicest gifts, And ruin health, In chasing wealthOer treacherous shoals and drifts. And come with me, And youll agree,Theres something in the air Of early morn Mid whispering corn,That drives away all care. And thus youll find, To ease the mind,When all the world looks glum To make life sweet, The greatest treatIs loafin with a 48 Outdoor Reveries SAND-HILL CRANE. Far in the mystery of space, Wheeling aloft with queenly grace— Around like whirl-winds booty, race,And sport on high, Hurling to earths receding faceThat dismal cry. To what far distant unknown land; What river bar, or sea-beat strand—What level plain of drifting sand, Art bound today?In lofty spirals, sweeping grand, Dost wheel your way? Far, far aloft in towering flight, Ye sport amid the sunbeams bright, Oft drifting quite beyond my sight,In mystic blue. Tis far beyond my muses might,To follow you.
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookpublisherkansa, bookyear1920
