The woods

by Douglas Malloch

To the road an’ the bank an’ the dump,

But she’s got all creation ag’in you,

The sun an’ the wind an’ all that,

An’ she’ll bust ev’ry road

An’ she’ll stall ev’ry load

An’ your timber will stay where it’s at.

You ought to know somethin, of woman—

You’ve seen her both single an’ wed;

You know you can’t stir

Any notion in her