Songs from the Ozarks; and other poems (1922) (14595660587)

Identifier: songsfromozarkso00hick (find matches)
Title: Songs from the Ozarks; and other poems
Year: 1922 (1920s)
Authors: Hickman, J. M. (from old catalog)
Subjects:
Publisher: Memphis, Tenn., The Memphis linotype printing company
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation



Text Appearing Before Image:
ROM THE OZARKS Each has a note of gratitude,Though to your ear it might sound rude,Yet each ones note, though it sounds odd,Just reaches to the ear of God.He bends and listens to each note,Though coming from a muffled throat—Reciprocates to each ones call.Just as He heeds the sparrows fall. In spring, when everything is green,The swelling buds and flowers are seen;The birds, all mating here and there.With loves sweet song, float in the air.They build their nests on bough and limb,Midst noisy life they raise a hymn;Id rather hear the song birds singThan be a nations pampered king. Then can you ask me why my timeIs often spent in verse and rhyme .^Great God! Deliver me from wealth.So often gained by wrongs and stealth,By men garbed in religions cloak.Who sit in the church pews and croak,And sing, and pray, with pious air.While all the time a devils there! Who possibly the day beforePut some poor widow out of door.With little children in bare feet.To wander homeless in the street! -22-
Text Appearing After Image:
For mongst the woods and limpid streamsYour heart is filled with wondrous dreams. SONGS FROM THE OZARKS I d rather live mongst natures hauntsThan gilded halls of wealth and vaunts,And eat the nuts and fruits found there,Than fill such poor hearts with despair. For mongst the woods and limpid streamsYour heart is filled with wondrous dreams;No thought in you to over-ride,No vanity or foolish pride;But full of love and sweet content.Your very souls with nature blent.Then, as the days pass swiftly by.Your heart emits a soft sweet sigh. I do not call it wasting time,To sing a song in verse or rhyme,God whispers, and I hear Him call.And sing the song, that it may fallOn hearts thats full of sympathy.For those who live in misery;And hearing, lift those fallen up,And take from them the bitter cup. This is my mission here on earth;May I prove worthy of my birth.May all my songs float high and wideAnd their influence over-rideThe mean and low-born, filthy schemesOf foxy scoundrels, in their dr