As one who, nightmare-waked, prepares to scream,
The beads of terror-damp upon his brow,
But, glimpsing streaks of golden dawn, the vow
Of Day to Life, takes heart—so, too, we deem
This vision out of darkness just a gleam,
Vouchsafed by Him to ease our pain. And now
What more can grace of God to us allow
Than making real our people's time-old dream?

O ageless city, dulled by suffering,
But never ruined, old when Tyre was young
And Carthage prospered. What wrought He with them?
Their dust will never see another spring,

They flee from me that sometime did me seek
With naked foot stalking in my chamber.
I have seen them gentle, tame and meek
That now are wild and do not remember
That sometime they put themselves in danger
To take bread at my hand; and now they range
Busily seeking with a continual change.

Thanked be fortune, it hath been otherwise
Twenty times better, but once in special,
In thin array after a pleasant guise,
When her loose gown from her shoulders did fall
And she caught me in her arms long and small,
Therewithal sweetly did me kiss

O let him whose sorrow
No relief can find,
Trust in God, and borrow
Ease for heart and mind.

Where the mourner weeping
Sheds the secret tear,
God his watch is keeping,
Though none else be near.

God will never leave thee,
All thy wants he knows,
Feels the pains that grieve thee,
Sees thy cares and woes.

Raise thine eyes to heaven
Should thy spirits quail,
When, by tempests driven
Sight and steering fail.

All our woe and trouble
Justice will requite,
All our joys redouble
In the eternal height.

In times of stormy weather
She felt queer pain
That said,
“You'll find rain better
Than shelter from the rain.”

Days filled with fiery sunshine
Strange hurt she knew
That made
Her seek the burning sunlight
Rather than the shade.

In months of snowy winter
When cozy houses hold,
She'd break down doors
To wander naked

Whiter than snow, her Infant lay
In Mary's arms that happy day;
Fairer than all the flowers that blow,
Brighter than all the stars that glow,
Sky blossoms in the milky way,

Thus I present him, when I pray,
As in the arms of faith, and say
‘Father, there was one Life below
Whiter than snow.’

That whiteness pleads my cause, I know,
And wins for me the grace to show
Some reflex rays while here I stray—
Pledge I shall wear the pure array
In which the heavenly armies go
Whiter than snow.

From here through tunnelled gloom the track
Forks into two; and one of these
Wheels onward into darkening hills
And one toward distant seas.

How still it is; the signal light
At set of sun shines palely green;
A thrush sings; other sound there's none,
Nor traveller to be seen—

Where late there was a throng. And now,
In peace awhile, I sit alone;
Though soon, at the appointed hour,
I shall myself be gone.

But not their way: the bow-legged groom,
The parson in black, the widow and son,
The sailor with his cage, the gaunt

Like flaming comet on a darkened sky,
A God-sent ray
Streamed through the depths of forest gloom where I
Groped on Life's way.

I loved the warmth and kissed the golden glow,
I cried “Oh, stay!”
The sunbeam fled, and left me blackness, woe
And lifeless clay!

Before I set sail, I will not fail
To give that lad my blessing,
And if I had him here there's not much fear
But he'd get a good top dressing;
By the hat on my head but he'd lie on his bed
Till the end of next September,
I'd give him good cause to rub his jaws
And Skin the Goat remember.

But as I won't get the chance to make Carey dance,
I'll give him my benedictions,
So from my heart's core may he evermore
Know nothing but afflictions,
May every buck flea from here to Bray
Jump through the bed that he lies on,

Ill busi'd man! why should'st thou take such care
To lengthen out thy lifes short Kalendar?
When ev'ry spectacle thou lookst upon
Presents and acts thy execution.
Each drooping season and each flower doth cry,
Fool! as I fade and wither, thou must dy.
Can there be any day but this,
Though many sunnes to shine endeavour?
We count three hundred, but we misse;
There is but one, and that one ever.

I can HEY on water
Same as I can HEY-HEY on beer.
HEY on water
Same as I can HEY-HEY on beer.
But if you gimme good corn whisky
I can HEY-HEY-HEY—and cheer!

If you can whip de blues, boy,
Then whip 'em all night long.
Boy, if you can whip de blues,
Then whip 'em all night long.
Just play 'em, perfesser,
Till you don't know right from wrong.

While you play 'em,
I will sing 'em, too.
And while you play 'em,
I'll sing 'em, too.
I don't care how you play 'em
I'll keep right up with you.

Cause I can HEY on water,