The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . must be, That, like a shuttle, wove The fragrance of the apple tree With Southern orange grove. The air was like the breath of JuneThat roses wild, exhale, 325 Yet questioned I Were it too soon For Summer to prevail ? The clouds, encamped in fields of blue, Like soldiers, pitched their tents; In open ranks, the sun passed through The brilliant regiments. By fertile fields I took my way. I saw the upturned soil Where happy farmers drew their pay For health bestowing toil. The boys employed were free from cares, As was the breath they spent, In loudly sin
The poetical works of Edwin Oscar Gale . must be, That, like a shuttle, wove The fragrance of the apple tree With Southern orange grove. The air was like the breath of JuneThat roses wild, exhale, 325 Yet questioned I Were it too soon For Summer to prevail ? The clouds, encamped in fields of blue, Like soldiers, pitched their tents; In open ranks, the sun passed through The brilliant regiments. By fertile fields I took my way. I saw the upturned soil Where happy farmers drew their pay For health bestowing toil. The boys employed were free from cares, As was the breath they spent, In loudly singing simple airs. Or whistling as they went. And when I thought how Fate served me, Brought much to make me sad, I almost wished the bird to be, The farmer, or the lad. I saw the outward wave of joy, But not the undertow, I heard the song of bird and boy. Their sorrows did not know. I envied each his pleasant lot. In every one could see A happy heart that worried not. And wished my own as free. But in the night the wind veered round 326. By fertile fields 1 took my way,I saw the upturned soil: And changed the scene again:In waking, I next morning foundEarth glazed with frozen rain. And as I snugly lay in bed, Half dreaming, half awake, The truant thought came in my head. How great was my mistake To think that all the ills of life Were showered down on me. While from its burdens and its strife, The husbandman was free. For while I might in comfort sleep,The farmer, envied tending to his hogs and sheep,With frequent oath and boy, as early from his hungry, cross and milking in a leaky kicked each cow he met. The bird, without a worm or crumb To fill its little mouth. Upon a frozen limb, sat dumb. Much wishing it was South. The whistle and the song had fled. The sun forgot to shine, And I resolved, there in my bed. To never more repine. And when I heard the breakfast bell, Beheld the tempting board, Found happy wife and children well, I than
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1900, bookidpoeticalwork, bookyear1906
