Frank Lebby Stanton Poems

Ef you strike a thorn or rose,
Keep a-goin'!
Ef it hails, or ef it snows,
Keep a-goin!
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When times are bad an' folks are sad
An' gloomy day by day,
Jest try your best at lookin' glad
An' whistle 'em away.
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In the white moonlight, where the willow waves,
He halfway gallops among the graves—
A tiny ghost in the gloom and gleam,
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Li'l bit er trouble,
Honey, fer terday;
Yander come Termorrer-
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De fiel's 'll soon be hummin'
Roun' de country high en low;
De harves' is a-comin':
Hoe yo' row!
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JEST a-wearyin' fer you
All the time a-feelin' blue;
Wishin' fer you wonderin' when
You'll be comin' home again ;
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The softest whisperings of the scented South,
And rust and roses in the cannon's mouth;

And, where the thunders of the fight were born,
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This world that we're a-livin' in
Is mighty hard to beat;
You git a thorn with every rose,
But ain't the roses sweet!
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The old flag is a--doin' her very level best,
She's a rainbow roun' the country from the rosy east to the west;
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He did n’t know much music
When first he come along;
An’ all the birds went wonderin’
Why he did n’t sing a song.
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