Maxioms by Edmund C. Stedman
No clouds are in the morning sky,
The vapors hug the stream,
Who says that life and read more
No clouds are in the morning sky,
The vapors hug the stream,
Who says that life and love can die
In all this northern gleam?
At every turn the maples burn,
The quail is whistling free,
The partridge whirs, and the frosted burs
Are dropping for you and me.
Ho! hillyho! heigh O!
Hillyho!
In the clear October morning.
When buttercups are blossoming,
The poets sand, 'tis best to wed:
So all for love we paired read more
When buttercups are blossoming,
The poets sand, 'tis best to wed:
So all for love we paired in Spring--
Blanche and I--ere youth had sped.
