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Identifier<\/b>: reminiscentrhyme00wils
Title<\/b>: Reminiscent rhymes, and other verse<\/a>
Year<\/b>: 1911<\/a> (1910s<\/a>)
Authors<\/b>: Wilson, John Byers<\/a>
Subjects<\/b>:
Publisher<\/b>: Cincinnati, Press of Jennings and Graham<\/a>
Contributing Library<\/b>: The Library of Congress<\/a>
Digitizing Sponsor<\/b>: The Library of Congress<\/a><\/p>\n
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ee.Myself jes crowds o company;Ercctin castles, dreamin dreams.Only a step back now it seems;Air so fragrant from medder an hill,Stop now an then to breathe my fill;Clouds like spirits driftin throughFar skies o pure translucent blue.And all the earth in gayest dress,0 green an flowery loveliness. Everything seemin without a care;Swallows skimmin the crystal -air.Cat-bird, yaller-hammer an jay,Callin to me the whole o the way;Mother ducks leadin their fluffy broodsDown to the pond, at edge o the woods;Nothin in all o the baby line.So innocent an soft an fine.Peacock screechin on a distant fence,]Iakcs up in looks, what he lacks in sense;Jes like some folks, at Ive heerd toll,AVhose brains all go to dressin well;Sheep a fleckin the rollin lea,Lcokin like white-caps out at sea;Big horned ram a starin so fierce,^Make myself jes a little sceerce;Cattle strollin, grazin their full,Hoss-flies stingin the back o the bull,(Git the jiggers if he dont look out.In a month or so, or thereabout;)<\/i><\/p>\n
Brown toad into the rag weed darts,(Leave him alone for fear o warts:)Chimney showin^ where the bull-frog digs,Fence corner full o^ sow an pigs,Babbit a skittin across the road.Tumble-bug trundlin his heavy load.Squirrel a chatter in up a tree,Jes as sasFy as he can be,115 117 Spittin upon his nimble paws,Eyin^ me close as he wipes his jaws;Blacksnake sunnin^ along a rail,Six-feet-six from his head to tail,As quick as lightnin^ theres a fight,And hes either dead, or out o sight;Snake feeder skimmin the shallow pond,Calamus growin jes beyond,Elders wavin tlieir snowy plumes,Bees a buzzin mong clover blooms\u2014Oh! where in all the world 11 ye find.So many charms to please the mind.To waken interest, the fancy strike.As in strollin down the old turn-pike? King-bird chasin a crow in the sk}^,Keepin a peckin away at his eye;Buzzards circlin high in a ring,Eeastin their eyes on some dead thing;Eain crows preachin like prophets vain.Half the time lyin about the rain;Wood-pecker drummin an old<\/i><\/p>\n
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