Walter M Hazeltine.

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LIBRARY OF CONGRESS,

Chap. Copyright No,

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA,



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TWO cwr<^ ^nmviiy



RIFTS IN THE CLOUDS



POEMS



WALTER M. HAZELTINE



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CAMBRIDGE

iPrinteU at X\z EiDerfiitrc l^xtm

1897



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TWO CrtP'iPS t^fWKIVEO



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COPYRIGHT, 1897, BY C. HAZELTINE
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED



n6



TO

MY DEARLY BELOVED SISTER

THESE SONGS

STRAY THOUGHTS, CREATIONS OF IDLE MOMENTS

ARE LOVINGLY INSCRIBED



Had the author lived the foregoing dedication would
have been used in a volume he was preparing for
publication. It was his wish, should he not live,
that the same dedication be used in any volume
published by his friends.



THE GOAL

Sweet the songs of the reaper^

When the harvest is gathered in ;
Sweet the sound of rejoicing

When the victory we win ;
Sweet the dreams of the sleeper,

Sweet the faith of the soul
When it nears the brimming river,

God, and its infinite goal.



In weaving his thoughts into song,
the author snatched many a happy hour
from five years of enforced idleness and
suffering.

The selections which appear in this
volume, taken from many others, may
not be in all cases such as he would
have chosen, and many have been omit-
ted which possibly the author would
have considered his best.



CONTENTS



PAGB



THE MASTER I

THE BESTEST FOURTH 3

JES' BEFORE CHRISTMAS 6

SQUIRE STEBBINS'S REMARKS 9

THE tramp's soliloquy I3

sleepin' in the attic 16

A tramp's song 19

THE IMP-HAUNTED POOL 22

WHEN THE BOOGIE-MEN CAME ROUND .... 25

WHEN THE COWSLIPS START TO GROW .... 28

THANK-TIME AN' LOAFIN'-TIME 30

BIRD-SONGS AND RIVER-SONGS ^^

UP an' down THE RIVER 36

THE END OF THE ROAD 39

MY DEAR OLD ATTIC ROOM 42

HOW-DE-DO 45

eifty odd winters and more 47

ho! bonny boy! 51

whereaway 53

vacation 55

the little red schoolhouse 57

sing a song of happy 59

just to be a boy 61

if you will 63

GOLLY, don't you CARE 65

SUCCESS 67

WHEN I WAS A BOY 69



X CONTENTS

SING, HO y^

SING A SONG OF DON'T VOU CARK 75

AIRSHIPS -jy

SING, HO ! MY FRECKLED ROVER 79

THE HUNTER DISMAYED 81

COME UP FROM THE SWEET BEGUILING .... ^^^

VACATION IS OVER 85

the country stage 87

Cupid's miss 89

TROUBLE 91

fun here in new england 93

"handle with care, else the stitches will

fall" 95

let them pass 98

breaking out the road 100

spring, gentle spring i02

in the scenery of dreams i04

when the race is through i05

love's EYES 106

THE USES OF ADVERSITY I07

EARTH MUSIC I08

A NAME 109

IN AUTUMN TIME HO

CONSCIENCE Ill

MEMORIES 112

THE MOUNTAIN SPRING IIJ

THE WINTER ROAD II4

IN THE YOUNG WINTER II5

EXPECTATION II6

youth's HOLIDAY II7

AN APRIL DAY I18

BUT A PART 119

ALL IS GOOD 120

A WINTER TWILIGHT 121

THE CHIDE 122



LINES



CONTENTS xi



'■n



OH, THE OBSCURITY I24

A WISH „ 125

THE NATURE — CHANGE I26

IT IS BETTER I28

THE GOAL 129

MOONLIGHT I^O

131



THE HEART . .
A GAME BOARD



132

HEART MUSIC I^^

MY PRAYER 134

DO AS Y'OU MUST 1^5

ASPIRATIONS 1^7

don't WORRY 1^8

DREAMING I-^n

FALLING SNOW 1^0

MORNING 141

TO-MORROW 142

OF THE FUTURE I^-j

WHEN FOR ME I44

IN AN OLD BARN I^e

THE SONG 146

god's GRACE T47

WORDS THAT LIVE I48



WHO? . . .
BY THE LAKE



149
150



TO HER BEAUTIFUL DEAD
HE IS DEAD



151

152

A DAY ir,

TRUTH 1^5

SUNSET 156



THE DAY ....
THE DUTY OF DAYS



157

159

A VISION OF HOPE 161

THE NEW YEAR IN 165



xii CONTENTS

AN AUTUMN SONG 167

IN SEPTEMBER 169

DECEMBER 171

THE GRAY GULL l^2

A DAY — ARIZONIAN 1 74

A MORNING-RISE 175

IN THE TIME OF WANING AUTUMN 177

NOR YET FORGOT 179

THE MOWERS 182

THE WOODSMEN 183

THE PASSING OF THE YEAR 186

SITTING ALONE IN THE TWILIGHT 188

THE BEST OF ALL THE DEAR OLD SONGS . . . I9I

WHERE THE RIVER FLOWS 194

OVER THE BROW OF THE HILL 196

THE FIRST THANKSGIVING I99

THE LAST THANKSGIVING 202

A MOOD 204

OLD FRIENDS ARE BEST 2o6

THE SONG 208

THE OLD HOME 209

THE CRICKET IN THE WALL 211

TWILIGHT ON A MOUNTAIN LAKE 213

AS OUR FATHERS DID OF YORE 215

THE poet's birth 217

AN EVENING WALK 219

OLD SONGS AND YEARS 222

THE SONG OF THE STORM 226

SONG 228

TWO SONGS 230

the answer of the rose 232

"chatter, chatter, it's no matter" . . . 236

pithy sayings 239



LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS



PORTRAIT Frojitispiece ^"^""^ ^

THE TRAMP'S SOLILOQUY .... Facing ^age 14 .
WHEN THE BOOGIE-MEN CAME ROUND .... 26 «•
AT THE END OF THE ROAD , . -„

FIFTY ODD WINTERS AND MORE. (Youth) ... 48
FIFTY ODD WINTERS AND MORE. (Age) .... 50 .

WHEN I WAS A BOY »q '

THE FIRST THANKSGIVING 200 '

TWILIGHT ON A MOUNTAIN LAKE 214



POEMS



THE MASTER

Ah, ancient is my harp ; for many a
day
It hath lain idle, and its strings have
grown
Rusty with little use, mayhap the way
The mind grows rusty when it dwells
alone.

Unpracticed are my hands, ay, e'en un-
taught.
And little do I know the wondrous
strings ;
Yet how my heart doth beat with glad-
ness fraught,
When I can listen while the master
sings.



2 THEMASTEK

I brought it forth, attuned it to my heart,
And idly o'er its strings my fingers
strayed ;
From high to low, yet trembling in each
part,
They stumbled, stopped, and seemed
to be afraid.

The master touched a chord, — anon
there grew
A wealth of harmony without and in,
Like wine drunk sparkling of an olden
brew ;
Time was and was not, yet had heaven
been.



THE BESTEST FOURTH



THE BESTEST FOURTH

On th' morning of hurrah day, when th'

toot-horns blow,
I went down to Jimmie Nolan's, where

they had a show.
An' raggy men an' women, an' a peddler

with a pack,
An' a band an' a procession, with faces

painted black,
An' Injunses an* gypsies, an' a wagon

full o' girls
With flowers an' white dresses an' little

things an' curls.
An' men 'at chased a greased pig an'

tried to climb a pole.
An' tried to race in washin' tubs on

Jimmie' s swimmin' hole ;
An' there was flags a-flyin' an' toot-horns

goin' toot,
An' snap crackers bangin' off, an' pistol

guns to shoot,



4 THE BESTEST FOURTH

An' popcorn an' peanuts an' molasses

candy, too,
An' more 'n a million people, an' hardly

one I knew ;
An' a man 'at played a organ jes' as sweet

as you can think.
An' a monkey 'at would bob an' bow an'

scratch his head an' blink ;
An' when the dark came, fireworks an*

rockets 'at went whiz,
An' red fire an' yellow fire an' whirligigs

'at fiz.
An' then a cannon went off bang ! An'

all th' people round
Cheered an' throwed their hats up, an'

th' boys rolled on th' ground ;
Then th' rain began to patter an' th'

folks began to run,
An' ma, she said, " There 's always some-
thing comes to spoil the fun ! "
An' then she put her bonnet underneath

the wagon seat ;
An' pa, he said, he thought this Fourth

o' July beat
Any Fourth he ever see, an' I said I

thought so too ;



THE BESTEST FOURTH 5

Er a barrel full o' monkeys all a-eatin*

oyster stew ;
An' ma, she said she want to know where

I heard such trash ;
An' I telled her 't was th' peddler man

'at pocketed th' cash
Th' folks paid for handkerchiefs an'

grease-eraser stuff,
An' plays the banjo once 'n while when

folks don't buy enough ;
An' pa, he said, " Get up ! " to old Dob-
bin, an' he run ;
An' th' Fourth o' July 's over, an' I 'd had

th' bestest fun.



JES' BEFORE CHRISTMAS



JES' BEFORE CHRISTMAS

Pa says 'at when he 's a httle boy like

me
He 'd always mind his papa, an' was good

as he could be,
An' jes' before Christmas was better 'n

anything,
Jes' 'spectin' every minute what Santa

Clans would bring ;
Toot-horn-day wan't half so good, he

says it wan't, as this.
An' he was jes' as good, he says, so Santa

would n't miss.

So night before Christmas I set by

grandma's knee.
An' she tells a lot o' stories 'bout a little

boy like me,
'At was borned in a manger, an' how

some men were led
By a star 'at shined in heaven to his

rough an' humble bed ;



JES' BEFORE CHRISTMAS 7

An' then she tells o' Santa Claus, an' of

his beard of snow,
An' how goodest boys in all th' world is

all he wants to know.

An' then I hang my stockin' by the chim-
ney, an' pa, he

Helps me hang it, an' laughs, an' has
as good a time as me ;

An' then I go to bed up in th' attic, an' I
creep

Down in th' clothes an' try to stay until
I go to sleep ;

For I think of all th' funny things 'at
come at night up there,

An' when I listen careful, I can hear
them on th' stair.

Sleepin' in th' attic jes' before Christmas

comes,
Dreamin' o' sleds an' things, an' imps, an'

skates an' drums,
An' fairies, an' Santa Claus, an' books,

an' candy cats,
An' listening to noises o' creepy things

an* rats,



8 JES' BEFORE CHRISTMAS

An wonderin' if pa, when he's a little

kid,
Knew 'at Santa's always watchin', an

saw everything he did, —

Makes you glad when morning comes,

an' when th' firstest light
Comes peekin' in th' window, an' keeps

a-growin' bright.
You grab your clothes up in your hands,

an scoot down stairs.
An' creep in beside your mother all

trembly with the scares —
I tell you what, it 's jolly, when you bring

your stockin' in.
With nuts an' sweets an' oranges, an'

books an' everythin' —
An' pa, he laughs a-watchin' you, an' says

he 's glad at he
Has got a little feller to give presents to,

like me.



SQUIRE STEBBINSS REMARKS



SQUIRE STEBBINS'S REMARKS

It was on my last vacation,

Up among the Vermont farms,
Where nature is most prodigal

With all her wondrous charms,
While I 's at Farmer Stebbins's

With the baby and my wife,
Enjoying every minute

And forgetting city life,
I noticed, with amazement

And a feeling of alarm.
No boys or girls were left to help

The old folks on the farm.
So I questioned Farmer Stebbins,

And what the old man said
Has for months been wrestling

On the inside of my head.
" No, there ain't no boys to speak of,

As you have jest remarked ;
They 've all gone to th' city

An' in business have embarked.



10 SQUIRE STEBBINS'S REMARKS

Some are runnin' hoss-cars,

An' some are in th' stores ;
Some are on th' steam-cars,

An' some are doin' chores ;
Some are clerks in restaurants,

Some work in th' shops ;
Some are loafin' round, I guess,

But none are raisin' crops.
They 're in every kind o' business.

As near as I can larn,
Exceptin' raisin' eatin' crops

An' workin' on th' farm ;
Why, there 's William Henry Harrison —

An' that 's my youngest son —
Comes up here every summer

With his fishin' pole an' gun.
Rigged up in striped trousers

An' patent leather shoes,
A white cravat an' collar on.

An' head chock full o' news.
Well, he gets, he says, twelve dollars

A-workin' in a store.
An' says how he 's expectin'

A couple dollars more.



SQUIRE STEBBINS'S REMARKS

I '11 allow that 's rousin' wages,

With two weeks a year to play,
An' all the time a-gettin'

That two dollars every day.
Then there 's Peleg an' Josephus,

Samuel, Theodore an' John,
A-gettin' jest sich wages.

An' all workin' — off an* on !
But mother 'n I keep at it

In our slow an' easy way,
A-workin' when th' sun shines,

An' when it rains we play.
Sometimes we send a present

Down to the boys, you know ;
Like a barrel o' potatoes,

A peck o' beans o' so.
Sometimes we get a letter

A-statin' times is bad,
Which means about ten dollars

From th' pocket o' their dad.
Why, dum it, mother 's sent 'em

In good, clean solid cash —
Not a-countin' pork an' taters,

Butter 'n' eggs, an' all sich trash,



[2 SQUIRE STEBBINS'S REMARKS

But in good, clean hard-earned dollars

Got from the stuff we 've sold
From this 'ere old deserted farm —

More 'n a tater sack would hold.
What puzzles me the most is,

How th' boys will get along
When th' farm is sold et auction

After we are dead an' gone."



THE TRAMP'S SOLILOQUY



THE TRAMP'S SOLILOQUY

When the buttercups come in the med-
der an' make it all yeller like gold,

An' the daisies out'n the paster grow
white as they slowly unfold,

An' the robin says it is mornin', an' the
yeller bird gladdens the sight.

Or the sun overhead says noonday, or
the whippoorwill says it is night.

When the breezes softly meander out
over the medders which give

Back the perfume of spring joinin' sum-
mer, oh, then it 's a blessin' ter
live
An' dream as the hours slip by,
An' deep in the clovers lie

To wait for the dreary rustle o' the brown
leaves by-an'-by.

Oh, folks may call me lazy, an' good for
just nothin' at all



14 THE TRAMP'S SOLILOQUY

But ter lie out in the mowin'-lot where

the daisies rise an' fall,
An* nod an' blush, a-murmurin', " Good

for nothin' " ! — but just
Loafin', takin' life easy while others gather

the dust ;
But when roses borrow a fragrance from

the air, distil it an' give
It back with a double sweetness, oh, then

't is a blessin' ter live
Down midst the flowers so dear,
In the summer time o' the year.
For while others are ploughin' 'em under,

I 'm lovin' the daisies here.

Yes, I 'm penniless, maybe, an' holes

may laugh in my coats.
But if I 've had little for breakfast I 'm

full of the magical notes
O' the bobolink an' the sparrow, an' I 've

drank o' the mystical sweet
O' the summer air grown drowsy, an'

hid me out o' the heat
In the shade o' the beeches an' maples,

where elves do the biddin' o' men.





f#*^''^-^:?f'f-J'-^'^



THE TRAMP-S SOLILOQUY



THE TRAMP'S SOLILOQUY 15

Closin' my eyes an' whisperin', '' Let 'em
think what they will, an' then
Let 'em wander out over the lea,
With you an' the birds, an' see
If ever again they '11 wonder how a lazy
tramp can be."



l6 SLEEPIN' IN THE ATTIC



SLEEPIN' IN THE ATTIC

I REMEMBER when my pa said, " Jimmie,

go to bed,"
A lot o' funny kind o' things went scootin'

through my head ;
For I slept in th' attic, where scare-things

come at night,
Where goblins grow from rafters, an'

impses hide from sight,
An' wait to jump out on yer when ye 're

most asleep,
An' where there 's funny crawlin' things

'at creep, creep, creep
Up on th' bed, an' grab yer throat, an'

make yer cry an' groan.
All jes' because yer have to sleep up

attic all alone.
An' I remember pa said he thought most

any kid
'Ould like to sleep up attic, — leastwise

he always did.



SLEEPIN' IN THE ATTIC



17



An' when yer hear th' rats a-runnin'

round at night,
An' yer think perhaps they 's bogie men

with long white teeth 'at bite,
An' then th' moon comes in an' lays a

white streak on th' floor.
An' yer go to sleep an' dream about th'

bogie men some more.
An' th' cobwebs on th' rafters look like

fairy castles — most —
An' yer think perhaps th' moonlight is

Jimmie Nolan's ghost —
For Jimmie when he worked here said

'at ghosts lived in th' house.
An' they was big er little like th' moon-
shine er a mouse.
An' so I tuck my head down where the

bogie men can't see.
Right in th' bed, an' that 's th' way fer

little folks like me.
An' once at night, I know, I see a funny

thing an' screamed,
An' pa came up an' laughed, an' said he

guessed I only dreamed ;
But it wa'n't a dream at all, I know, fer

over by th' wall



i8 SLEEPIN' IN THE ATTIC

A yeller man hung by his neck, an' he

was awful tall,
An' he kept movin' back and forth an'

kicked his legs at me ;
An' pa said if I 'd look there in the morn-

in' I would see
'Twas jes' th' yeller corn 'at hung a dry-
in', nothin' more ;
Then he went out with th' candle an'

shut the attic door.
An* then I see him shake again, th' yeller

man, an' crawl,
A-hangin' by his neck there in th' dark

upon th' wall ;
An' then I tucked my head down in th'

clothes an' could n't see,
An' th' first I knew 't was mornin' an' pa

was callin' me.



ATRAMP'SSONG 19



A TRAMP'S SONG

Wanderin* in the June - time, down

around the river,
Outen hearin' o' the world, a-dozin' under

kiver
O' the alders an' the willers, all a-drippin*

in the water,
Kinder seems to me like livin' ; but they

tell me how I 'd oughter
Be in the sun a-workin', 'stead o' watchin'

daisies growin',
Be a-whettin' up a reaper, an' a-sweatin',

an' a-mowin'

Of 'em down to dry ;
But I 'd somehow rather watch the

beauties bobbin' an' a-growin'.
But I can't tell why.

Wanderin' in the flower time, up 'long

the valley,
Watchin' all the grasses grow, an' Nater's

gorgeous rally



20 A TRAMP'S SONG

From the wind-storms o' winter ; med-
ders growin' yeller,

The brooks a-singin' happily, the sky
a-growin' meller,

Catchin' up reflections o' hues the earth 's
a-brewin',

Kinder gawkin' at 'em meetin* in the dis-
tance an' a-wooin',

Or a lovin' here to He,

Listenin' to the pigeons a-nestin' an'
a-cooin',

But I can't tell why.

Sneakin' up an' down the creek, a-peekin'
at the fishes,

Runnin' over in my head a lazy lot o'
wishes —

Nothin' much to talk about — wish 'twas
always summer,

Er every skeeter et I 'd catch 'd turn a
partridge drummer —

Then jes' a-layin' dowh again, hands flap-
pin' in the river,

Outen hearin' o' the world, breathin' bless-
in' s to the Giver



A TRAMP'S SONG



O' the earth an' meller sky,
Contented Hke an' happy, jes' to watch
the water quiver.
But I can't tell why.



22 THE IMP-HAUNTED POOL



THE IMP-HAUNTED POOL

There *s a river flows down by Jim No-
lens's house,
Jimmie said last spring when he 's here,
With a big deep place 'at 's as still as a
mouse.
An' a rock what they jump from into

the hole,
An' a sandbar where they splash water

an' roll.
An* I want to go down to see Jim next
year,

An' pa said if I 's good
'At I could.

An' there 's lilies an' rushes an' cat-tails
an' more
Than a million tadpoles an' fish
Grow there, so Jim says, an' sweet flag
on the shore ;
An' there 's fairies 'at sing on the
mist-covered rocks,



THE IMP-HAUNTED POOL



23



Where the foam dashes up, an' a gob-
lin that talks
In the night when it's dark, an' I
wish

I could go an' see Jim
An' could swim.

An' Jim says there *s alders grow by the
deep place,
An' there's impsies 'at live in the
stream.
An' when yer lay down on the bank, in
yer face
Yer will see them look up all wiry an'

dance.
An' squirm in the water, an' tumble

an' prance,
Jim says, an' I see it last night in a
dream.

An' 't was all jest as true,
I tell you.

It 's bully, Jim says, where a broad river
flows.
An' there 's mussrats an' turtles to see,



24 THE IMP-HAUNTED POOL

An' you lay in the shade of the willow 'at
grows
Close down by the bank, with your

feet in the cool
Sleeping lily-strewn brim of the Imp-
Haunted Pool,
An' Jim 's there, an' pa says 'at maybe
I can go there some day,
An' can stay.



THE BOOGIE-MEN



WHEN THE BOOGIE-MEN CAME
ROUND

When I 's a little feller, about knee-
high to a toad,
An' went to see my grandpa on the

farm,
I remember how it lay there, like a snake,

the country road,
Among the mountains winding like a

giant's mighty arm ;
I remember how my grandpa, with his

glasses in his hair.
Used to take me up an' ride me on his

knee,
An' tell me of the boogie-men that used

to live out there.
An' of fairies that might come to visit me ;
Then in the dreamy twilight, when the

purple shadows fell
Across the road, an' covered all the

ground.



sd WHEN THE BOOGIE-MEN

An' I was tucked all snugly in the great
goose-feather bed,

It was then the boogie-men came roam-
in' round ;

It was then the boogie-men danced on
the bed,

An' the sprites an' fairies danced about
my head.

For in the night they 'd be
Grinnin' down at me.

Till I covered up my head an' could n't
see.

The house was long an' lowly, an' the
clapboards rough an' gray.

Where the northern winds had pelted
them with snow ;

But the attic was my fairyland, where I
loved to play

Till the twilight came, but then I had to

For it grew so still, I wondered if there 's

boogie-men up there.
An' I looked behind me when I started

out,




^^v



CAME ROUND 27

An' I crept along on tiptoe, all breathless,

to the stair,
Then I scampered down them quickly,

with a shout ;
But when the night came prowling, with

the shadows in his hands,
An' the moonlight scattered gold upon

the ground.
An' they tucked me up all snugly in the

soft goose-feather bed.
It was then the boogie-men came roamin'

round ;
It was then the boogie-men danced on

the bed.
An' the sprites an' fairies danced about

my head.

For in the night they 'd be
Grinnin' down at me.
Till I covered up my head an' could n't

see.



28 WHEN THE COWSLIPS



WHEN THE COWSLIPS START TO
GROW

When the mayflowers in the spring

Come bloomin' an' a-shakin'
Perfume over everything,
An' the year is wakin'
From its sleepy, dreamy way,

An' the gray
On the hills begins to grow
Greener as the moments flow.
An' the pussy willows dance
In the mellow breeze, an' prance, —
I go down the meadow brook.
With a line an' pole an' hook.

An' a worm

That will squirm
Jes' enough to call 'em out,
Shinin', whoopin', speckled trout.
That 's the fun, I 'd let you know.
When the cowslips start to grow.



I



START TO GROW 29

When the show-time o' the year

Goes up the hill a-sneakin*,
If you 're round you '11 hear me cheer

Like a wild March meetin'.
When I take my fishpole out,

Every trout
In a dozen miles — they tell
Rushes to an' fro pell-mell,
For they know they soon will see
Lots o' bait, but none o' me ;
As slyly floats my hidden hook
Through the rapids o' the brook ;
With a curl
Through the swirl ;
Underneath the hanging rock,
Then an eddy an' a shock.
An' the reel begins to whirl.
An' the line begins to curl.
As I bring him slow an' strong
Up the bank — ten inches long.
That *s the fun, I 'd have you know.
When the cowslips start to grow.



30 THANK-TIME AN' LOAFIN'-TIME



THANK-TIME AN' LOAFIN'-TIME

Fun here in New England now, layin' by

th' river,
Watchin' where a trout lays hidin' under

kiver ;
Mud-turtles on a log close where that

catbird screeches ;
Sandpiper struttin' yon, where that bit

o' beach is ;
Sun so hot you 're thankful like jes' for a

bit o' shadder,
An' watchin' o' th' lilies bob makes you

glad an' gladder.
Kingfisher on a stub, still, like he was

sleepin',
Watchin' for a fish to come round his

way a-creepin' ;
Don't keer much for fish to bite, nor

really think they oughter,
'T would hurt 'em so, an' catchin' 'em

would rumple up th' water.



THANK-TIME AN' LOAFIN'-TIME 31

Lazy like an' lovin' it, 'ithout a bit o'

frettin',
'Cos sometime next October, like, I '11

get a pesky wettin'.

Fun here in New England now, layin' by
th' river,

Or in th' corner uv a fence, hidin' under
kiver

Uv a alder bush, or apple-tree, or maybe
uv a wilier.

For a couch th' grass that's green, a
boulder for a piller ;

Snakes a-wigglin' in th' grass, hoppers
hoppin' 'round you ;

Kingbird screechin' overhead to show th'
world he 's found you ;

Buttercups an' daisies, an' th* tipsy-nod-
din' clover.

An' sky of blue with jest a few white
clouds a-drif tin' over ;

Day dreams an' loafin', an' a thank-
prayer to th' Giver

O' th' shadder o' th' willow hedge, an'
alders by th' river ;



32 THANK- TIME AN' LOAFIN'-TIME

Greetin's to th' meller breeze singin' as

it passes
Through th' branches overhead, an' th'

medder grasses.
Thank - time an' loafin' - time, an' day

dreams an' sleepin'.
Fish -time an' wish -time, an' twihght-

time a-creepin'
Up along the mountain side, over hills an'

ridges,
Shuttin' out th' flowin' stream, valley,

road, an' bridges.



BIRD-SONGS AND RIVER-SONGS 33



BIRD-SONGS AND RIVER-SONGS

I
Dreamin' in the mowin' lot, rompin' in

the medder
Where the daisies nod an' bhnk, growin'

red an' redder ;
Flashin' with the mornin* dew, tiltin' with

the clover ;
Tipsy in a mazy reel, up an' down an'

over.
In the corner of a fence, zigzag, bushy

growin',
Reelin' like a lazy snake, or a creek

a-flowin' ;
Out an' in among the brakes, out an' in

an' under,
Fillin' up a sleepy head, dreamy - head

with wonder.



34 BIRD-SONGS AND RIVER-SONGS
II

Jes' to dream, an' jes' to loaf, an' see the

world go round you :
Sprawlin' where the willow is, glad the

shadder found you ;
Layin' where the water flows, peekin' at

the fishes.
Curious to know jes' what a turtle thinks

or wishes ;
Wonderin' if the peep-birds love the

sandy beaches,
An' if yonder cat-bird thinks it 's music

when he screeches ;
Listenin' to the sleepy drone of the bee


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