Away from the tumult of motor and mill I want to be care-free; I want to be still! I'm weary of doing things; weary of words I want to be one with the blossoms and birds.
Children...they string our joys, like jewels bright, upon the thread of years.
A feller's glad to be a friend, Out fishin'. A helpin' hand he'll always lend, Out fishin' The brotherhood of rod and line An' sky an' stream is always fine; Men come real close to God's design, Out fishin'. A feller isn't plotting schemes, Out fishin'. He's only busy with his dreams, Out fishin' His livery is a coat of tan; His creed, to do the best he can; A feller's always mostly man Out fishin'.
At Christmas A man is at his finest towards the finish of the year; He is almost what he should be when the Christmas season's here; Then he's thinking more of others than he's thought the months before, And the laughter of his children is a joy worth toiling for. He is less a selfish creature than at any other time; When the Christmas spirit rules him he comes close to the sublime.
Somebody scoffed, Oh, you'll never to that - At least no one ever has done it; But he took off his coat and he took off his hat, And the first thing we knew, he'd begun it.
There's nothing that builds up a toil-weary soul Like a day on a stream, Back on the banks of the old fishing hole Where a fellow can dream. There's nothing so good for a man as to flee From the city and lie Full length in the shade of a whispering tree And gaze at the sky. . . . . It is good for the world that men hunger to go To the banks of a stream, And weary of sham and of pomp and of show They have somewhere to dream. For this life would be dreary and sordid and base Did they not now and then Seek refreshment and calm in God's wide, open space And come back to be men.
All the world loves a lover, but how it does laugh at his love letters.
I take the family shopping round. The markets of the world.
I want to be able, as days go by, always to look myself straight in the eye.
Columbus dreamed of an unknown shore at the rim of a far flung sky.
Tomorrow--there's no day so fair, It knows no sorrow; A day that banishes despair, Joy rules tomorrow.
Every thought and every act were to keep this home in tact.
For Age is not alone of time, or we should never see men old and bent at forty and men young at seventy-three.
But here in the struggle for fame and pelf I want to be able to like myself. I don't want to look at myself and know That I'm bluster and buff and empty show.
Fine counsel is confusing, but example is always clear
Who does his task from day to day and meets whatever comes his way, Believing God has willed it so, has found real greatness here below. Who guards his post, no matter where, believing God must need him there, Although but lowly toil it be, has risen to nobility. For great and low there's just one test, 'tis that each man shall do his best, Who works with all the strength he can, shall never die in debt to man.
It takes a heap o' livin' in a house t' make it home
The world is no longer closed to us in the way it was in the past - present generations have unparalleled access to pretty much all corners of the globe.
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