This text was obtained via automated optical character recognition.
It has not been edited and may therefore contain several errors.
BREAK OF DAWN Have you ever watched the sky, at the break of dawn? Whether it be in the spring, or on a winter mom, It really dazzles the human eye And makes you feel that God is nigh. Soon the colors blend from rose, to a brilliant gold, Its celestial beauty is a wonder to behold. The purple haze left over, from the twilight hour, Slowly creep into the picture, then fades away somehow. LONG ABOUT TWILIGHT Long about twilight, when day is through, And sleepy sunbeams bid the world adieu. I can see at a glance, a scene for romance. But O what a chance, without you beside me. All of a sudden the moon sails by, Just like a magic lantern in the sky. When I awaken from my beautiful reverie, To find I'm alone, with only a memory. TO OSSIAN HALL Dear Ossian Hall, your grandeur Did to my mind recall The happy days, of yesteryear That to my heart are ever dear The Mississippi flowing by The willows as they sway and sigh The darkies' song, when day is through The honeysuckle wet with dew The mocking birds' sweet serenade 'Tis sad such thoughts, like these must fade TO MY BOYS AND THEIR BOYHOOD DAYS A boy, his dog and his fish'in pole Me and my dog my fish'in pole Headed for the swim'in hole What recollections this brings to me Of my childhood days, in the use to be Looking under every log Hoping to find a fat little frog O, chasing crickets all about O! What bait, to catch a trout I keep wondering where time must go And about the pals, that I use to know' Who gathered round on a summer day With their fish'in poles and their chatter gay Time moves on and as you see All I have left is the memory Of a story, so often told Of a boy, his dog and his fish'in pole May 31, 1961 MOONBEAMS AND MAGNOLIAS Moonbeams and Magnolias long a sleepy southern shore Though the years have passed away, I love you more and more Time has lift its traces, still my love is just the same We'll find peace, and happiness, down in memory lane
Backman, Marguerite Thru-the-Garden-Gate-page-4