Just please remember this,

Perhaps they do not know.

DANCING ON A LEVEL ROAD

It is a happy thing to dance

A long a level road

So brave a deed to take a chance

Of slipping off the load.

IT WAS HOME

A little old house in a sheltered nook,

Some cottonwood trees near a babbling brook,

A sturdy gnarled oak by a grassy lane

That leads to green pastures past flowing grain.

A trellised rose bush hides a crumbling wall,

Where lovers have stood near the waterfall;

Beyond the sun sets in a golden glow

And shadows stretch far to the mead below.

A shining wire fence follows up the hill

And curves about to the graded fill.

Then back to the house in a cozy spot

We loiter there on the hallowed lot,

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