A people strong round it shall throng
To ne'er divide again.
April Thoughts
Listen to the laughter of the brook that's racin' by!
Listen to the chatter of the black-birds on the fence!
Stand an' see the beauties of the blue that's in the sky—
Then ask of God why mortals haven't any better sense
Than to quarrel an' to battle
Where the guns an' cannon rattle