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26 |
BLUE GRASS BALLADS |
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The other fields are old and worn,
Beneath the farmer's toil; The crops of many years have drained
The nurture of the soil. So thus the woods where you and I,
As hoyden children played, Are gone, as have the happy days
Within the sylvan shade. |
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THE FEE' LARK'S SONG.
" I—chee—wee !" " I—chee—wee !" Harkee! mammy, hark! There he is; can't you see ? He's the first fee' lark.
See him settin' on the fence ? I thess think his style's immense; Nen I know thess w'at he sings, Cos he sings it all the springs;
" Pull them shoes off, mighty fas', Turn them toeses out to grass." He can say a heap, you see, With his little " I—chee—wee!" |
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