Songs from the Ozarks; and other poems . s sprung to birth,I wish thee all thy mothers worth;Thy fathers spirit—freed from fault—And every good thing to exalt. I doubt not but in future have thy share of joy and tears;For light and shadow here on earthBegins the very day of birth. Each rose that blooms has thorns beneath,And pains go with each laurel mountain side is rough and steep,And we must toil if we would reap. Each has a place to fill on earth,And we should strive to prove our shirk the duties here struggle til the heights are scaled. Th
Songs from the Ozarks; and other poems . s sprung to birth,I wish thee all thy mothers worth;Thy fathers spirit—freed from fault—And every good thing to exalt. I doubt not but in future have thy share of joy and tears;For light and shadow here on earthBegins the very day of birth. Each rose that blooms has thorns beneath,And pains go with each laurel mountain side is rough and steep,And we must toil if we would reap. Each has a place to fill on earth,And we should strive to prove our shirk the duties here struggle til the heights are scaled. Though worn and weary with the strife,Keep struggling for a better life;And though the burden heavy seems,Let hope shine forth with sunny beams. And when at last you reach the your tried spirit sweetly blend—With all the loved ones gone suffer grief and pain no more. Then, from immortal height look down,And cheer some other to a crown;Some heart bowed down with earthly strife-And lift them to a higher life. ?158-. Wee flower that has sprung to birth,I wish thee all thy mothers worth. SONGS FROM THE OZARKS SKELETONS We bow ourselves with worldly care; Full well we know it does no good,Nor does it make our burdens less, But adds to melancholys mood. Yet neertheless, we cannot help Our minds from broodings filled with care;Distorted visions keep from sleep, Our thoughts so filled with darksome fear. Each heart hath secrets kept within—For untold wealth would not disclose; And though the face may show a smile—Within, tis dark and all morose. The phantom ghost of other limes,Doth wring regret from inmost soul; And as the tide of time rolls on. Were tortured by old memrys ghoul. Though vain regret may oer us steal, We profit not by looking as our memories urge us on. We yield, and suffer tortures rack. I WOULD NOT ASK A GREATER BOON I would that I might pass my life Forever by thy from the cares of mortal strife— Just with thee to abide.
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