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BLUE GRASS BALLADS 13
Clad in the songs of the dear old days, Remembered with a tear.
The days when men were gallant and true, In court and field and hall,
When word of a friend was word of a host, And truth was all in all.
Dance, in the gray of the curtained room,
Old melodies, and cast Your shadows 'long the ivory keys,
Where she invokes the past.
Then glide away, as the light grows bright
Within the blazing room, But leave the scent of your lilies here,
And Memory's soft perfume. |
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WHEN THE CORN'S LAID BY.
Thar's lots er things I'm gwine ter do,
When the corn's laid by; I'll hunt the shade and hug it, too,
When the corn's laid by. I'll set down by the crick an' fish, An' mebbe I will git my wish, Thet one I know will come and say: " Now hain't it good to see the day When the corn's laid by ? " |
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