Oklahoma Sunshine Part 57

The man who laughs in the suns.h.i.+ne and sleeps when the shadows fall will never suffer much with the heart-ache.

The Meadows of Morning.

The raptures grow the blossoms Over all the fields of May, And they bring the birds with music Just to sing the time away; O, brother, lift your voice In the anthems that rejoice While the roses rim the meadows of the morning!

The glad hearts send the gladness Over all the fields we go, And the glory of the suns.h.i.+ne Brightens all the world we know; O, brothers, come along!

Let us sing the rain-bow song While the roses rim the meadows of the morning!

The good Lord gives his bounties To his children through the years, And his gifts of love and labor Conquer all the griefs and tears; O, brother, bye and bye We shall reach the home on high While the roses rim the meadows of the morning!

Fields of May.

Here's a road that's never long, Where it leads away Through the blossom and the song To the fields of May!

There the rain-bow bends above Bags of gold, they say; And there's laughter, light and love In the fields of May!

Here's the road that's never long!

Come and let's away, Through the blossom and the song To the fields of May!

With all the strife and struggle after riches, the greatest joys of life are forever more the gifts of nature, within the reach of rich and poor alike, and beyond the measurings of gold. The clear sky and the green gra.s.s, the suns.h.i.+ne of the noon, and the dew of the morning, the blossom and the bird-song, good health and sound sleep, and the love of a man for a woman and of a woman for a man,--these have no prices in the catalogues of wealth and poverty alike.

The Journey.

This life, my dear, is a varied journey And most of its ways are queer, But those who laugh through its work and wonder Will find that it holds good cheer; And whether we laugh or languish And whether we sigh or sing, I am sure that still There is good for ill And the flash of an angel wing!

The world, my dear, and the folk that use it Care naught for our waste or worth; The smile and sorrow of hope and hurry Are small to the brave old earth; And whether with pain or pleasure And whether with smiles or tears, There is something glad For the dark and sad, And we go to the blessed years.

The deeds, my dear, that we faint in doing, The dreams that we catch and cherish, To those that walk in the ways beside us Are naught when they fall and perish; But whether they fail or triumph And whether the rue or rose, To the hearts that hold They are more than gold Till the years of the G.o.ds unclose.

It's up, my dear, with the purple morning, And death to the heart's annoy; No stop nor stay on the endless journey To rest on the hills of joy!

And whether the paths are easy And whether the roads are long, There is rapture still For the ache and ill, As we wander the ways with song!

Yes, life, my dear, is a varied journey And most of its ways are queer, But those who laugh as they wander onward Will find that it holds good cheer; And whether we laugh or languish And whether we sigh or sing, I am sure that still There is good for ill And the flash of an angel wing!

"When the Sad Time Ends."

What's the use to beckon trouble As you journey down the road?

Life will find its burdens double If it cherishes the load!

Keep a smile and be contented With the favors fortune sends, And the joys will romp around you Till the sad time ends.

What's the use to keep complaining At the gifts the good days bring?

For each tear that flows from heart-ache There's a hundred laughs that sing; For the day that's dark and gloomy, G.o.d a hundred bright days lends, And his suns.h.i.+ne will be ceaseless When the sad time ends.

What's the use to go to growling When the comrades that you knew Turn their backs on all your kindness And unsheathe their knives for you?

For the scamp that proves a traitor, You will find a hundred friends, And their golden hearts ne'er waver Till the sad time ends.

What's the use to welcome trouble?

Chase it from the paths you go!

There is always plenty of it If you cherish every woe.

Keep your life alight with gladness Till a song each day attends; You will reach the land of suns.h.i.+ne When the sad time ends.

Sooner Sayings.

The land office is the grave-yard of many a happy home.

In driving a settlement stake, one man is company and two's a crowd.

The ox-team makes a swift run when its owner understands how to drive them at the land-office window.

Snake Bit.

"Did you have any accidents on the fis.h.i.+ng trip?"

"No; none to speak of?"

"Any one snake bit?"

"Yes, but that's nothing. Bill Jones got snake-bit every time his clothes rubbed him, and hollered for whiskey; and in order to save any, we had to undress Bill and put him under guard for the general welfare."