When Day is Done Part 14

The Wide Outdoors

The rich may pay for orchids rare, but, Oh the apple tree Flings out its blossoms to the world for every eye to see, And all who sigh for loveliness may walk beneath the sky And claim a richer beauty than man's gold can ever buy.

The blooming cherry trees are free for all to look upon; The dogwood buds for all of us, and not some favorite one; The wide outdoors is no man's own; the stranger on the street Can cast his eyes on many a rose and claim its fragrance sweet.

Small gardens are shut in by walls, but none can wall the sky, And none can hide the friendly trees from all who travel by; And none can hold the apple boughs and claim them for his own, For all the beauties of the earth belong to G.o.d alone.

So let me walk the world just now and wander far and near; Earth's loveliness is mine to see, its music mine to hear; There's not a single apple bough that spills its blooms about But I can claim the joy of it, and none can shut me out.

"Where's Mamma?"

Comes in flying from the street; "Where's Mamma?"

Friend or stranger thus he'll greet: "Where's Mamma?"

Doesn't want to say h.e.l.lo, Home from school or play he'll go Straight to what he wants to know: "Where's Mamma?"

Many times a day he'll shout, "Where's Mamma?"

Seems afraid that she's gone out; "Where's Mamma?"

Is his first thought at the door-- She's the one he's looking for, And he questions o'er and o'er, "Where's Mamma?"

Can't be happy till he knows: "Where's Mamma?"

So he begs us to disclose "Where's Mamma?"

And it often seems to me, As I hear his anxious plea, That no sweeter phrase can be: "Where's Mamma?"

Like to hear it day by day; "Where's Mamma?"

Loveliest phrase that lips can say: "Where's Mamma?"

And I pray as time shall flow, And the long years come and go, That he'll always want to know "Where's Mamma?"

Summer Dreams

Drowsy old summer, with nothing to do, I'd like to be drowsin' an' dreamin' with you; I'd like to stretch out in the shade of a tree, An' fancy the white clouds were s.h.i.+ps out at sea, Or castles with turrets and treasures and things, And peopled with princesses, fairies and kings, An' just drench my soul with the glorious joy Which was mine to possess as a barefooted boy.

Drowsy old summer, your skies are as blue As the skies which a dreamy-eyed youngster once knew, An' I fancy to-day all the pictures are there-- The s.h.i.+ps an' the pirates an' princesses fair, The red scenes of battle, the gay, cheering throngs Which greeted the hero who righted all wrongs; But somehow or other, these old eyes of mine Can't see what they did as a youngster of nine.

Drowsy old summer, I'd like to forget Some things which I've learned an' some hurts I have met; I'd like the old visions of splendor an' joy Which were mine to possess as a barefooted boy When I dreamed of the glorious deeds I would do As soon as I'd galloped my brief boyhood through; I'd like to come back an' look into your skies With that wondrous belief an' those far-seeing eyes.

Drowsy old summer, my dream days have gone; Only things which are real I must now look upon; No longer I see in the skies overhead The pictures that were, for the last one has fled.

I have learned that not all of our dreams can come true; That the toilers are many and heroes are few; But I'd like once again to look up there an' see The man that I fancied some day I might be.

I Ain't Dead Yet

Time was I used to worry and I'd sit around an' sigh, And think with every ache I got that I was goin' to die, I'd see disaster comin' from a dozen different ways An' prophesy calamity an' dark and dreary days.

But I've come to this conclusion, that it's foolishness to fret; I've had my share o' sickness, but I Ain't Dead Yet!

Wet springs have come to grieve me an' I've grumbled at the showers, But I can't recall a June-time that forgot to bring the flowers.

I've had my business troubles, and looked failure in the face, But the crashes I expected seemed to pa.s.s right by the place.

So I'm takin' life more calmly, pleased with everything I get, An' not over-hurt by losses, 'cause I Ain't Dead Yet!

I've feared a thousand failures an' a thousand deaths I've died, I've had this world in ruins by the gloom I've prophesied.

But the sun s.h.i.+nes out this mornin' an' the skies above are blue, An' with all my griefs an' trouble, I have somehow lived 'em through.

There may be cares before me, much like those that I have met; Death will come some day an' take me, but I Ain't Dead Yet!

The Cure for Weariness

Seemed like I couldn't stand it any more, The factory whistles blowin' day by day, An' men an' children hurryin' by the door, An' street cars clangin' on their busy way.

The faces of the people seemed to be Washed pale by tears o' grief an' strife an' care, Till everywhere I turned to I could see The same old gloomy pictures of despair.

The windows of the shops all looked the same, Decked out with stuff their owners wished to sell; When visitors across our doorway came I could recite the tales they'd have to tell.

All things had lost their old-time power to please; Dog-tired I was an' irritable, too, An' so I traded chimney tops for trees, An' s.h.i.+ngled roof for open skies of blue.

I dropped my tools an' took my rod an' line An' tackle box an' left the busy town; I found a favorite restin' spot of mine Where no one seeks for fortune or renown.

I whistled to the birds that flew about, An' built a lot of castles in my dreams; I washed away the stains of care an' doubt An' thanked the Lord for woods an' running streams.

I've cooked my meals before an open fire, I've had the joy of green smoke in my face, I've followed for a time my heart's desire An' now the path of duty I retrace.

I've had my little fis.h.i.+n' trip, an' go Once more contented to the haunts of men; I'm ready now to hear the whistles blow An' see the roofs an' chimney tops again.

To an Old Friend

When we have lived our little lives and wandered all their byways through, When we've seen all that we shall see and finished all that we must do, When we shall take one backward look off yonder where our journey ends, I pray that you shall be as glad as I shall be that we were friends.

Time was we started out to find the treasures and the joys of life; We sought them in the land of gold through many days of bitter strife.

When we were young we yearned for fame; in search of joy we went afar, Only to learn how very cold and distant all the strangers are.

When we have met all we shall meet and know what destiny has planned, I shall rejoice in that last hour that I have known your friendly hand; I shall go singing down the way off yonder as my sun descends As one who's had a happy life, made glorious by the best of friends.