The St. Cloud journal. [volume] (St. Cloud, Minn.) 1866-1876, 1871-02-16
HOMER Re- BIGELoW's MUSINGS.

Father wuz drorrin' logs all last Spring to build
new barn, anil he'd to be up bright an airly every
nernin' to drive Joe an Jennooary down to tht
thicket, sost always hurd the robbins sing while
he bloom O. the mornin' wus on the music. fouA
twuz wuth vile to be in at the dressin time O. rab
bits and wood-chucks. This song, which made on'
. them airly mornin's, I've kep' on hand all sum
mer, to see how 'twould SCUM in the Fall, coz
haint never sureo' lkin' anythin' Cnless tits Nan
cy,) through two whole seasons Now, I've writ
October Hymn to match it; but sha'n't send it t,
you this time. ~ HOMER BIGELOW.
P. s. Father haint seen the Poem to correct it,
I've got four traps set for woodchucks 81. B.
A MORNlN' SONG.
This mornin', soon'z the early larks
Had ventura out, I rose up
An saw the sun aginst the hills
A-burnishin' his nose up.
I brush'd away the p'ints o. dew
That set the medders glitterin';
1follered down the gigglin' brooks,
Ez they went, gay aud glitterin'.
Bright day was walkin' roun' tho woods,
And peekin' at the peekin' holes:
An he want maxim n'ize' ez though
:. God made his shoes vii squeakin' solss.
Yet were he set his shinin' eyes,
0rput his fingers cunninly,
All ereatu,s rose ez quick ez il
He'd hollered at 'enI stunnin1y.
Mos on 'em wuz already up,
An <ha;r hruht ovoo ;v,
An every one wcz say'n' his prayers
z of God wuz present Gs'eain'.
An He wuz, too : He's evereryw'ers
Were any Of His creaturs is,
A-watehin' all, both great and small,
From mon down to muskeeter'ses.
With His own ham He furnishes
What forests make their tangles on,
= An He comes down, and with His ham
He helps to put their spangles on. +.
He gives the elms thor bran'.new clo'ss
Nv elegan' costoomery,
He 'dorns EN- 18th new ornaments
An gives 'em their puffoomery;
An they lift high their shinin' heads +
A-swingin' 'em continnley,
Diffusin' odors roun' about
For all creation ginnley.
This mornin' they wcs puhoomsd up
An smellin' rcun' deh'fully,
An multitudes O. birds wuz SET
Tin singin' in 'em jyfully.
God seemed a-holdin' in their tops
His council oecumenicle,
For every linn he'd got its priest r
A-roostin' on its pennacle;
An every priest wuz tunin' up
Hisfust of Ap'il matin song,
An want itjest ez fine an gran
Ez eft he'd been a Latin songi
Sech great bust o. sound ez come
1t set the air a-waverin'
'Zef twenty million throats at once
Wuz demi-semi-quaverin'.
1guess the Pope O. Rome 'ould like
r. have evidence ez val'able
Ez Natur's vice unannermous
Declarin' him infallible.
Amt thet the peth O. wat the birds
Air votin' on diurnally1
Don't all their prais'n' mean that Gods
Infallible eternally!
That He's the King that can't do wrong
That's allus to be trusted in;
Whose bank'l stand ez long ez Time,
An then it won't be busted in,
That's wut they all wuz say'n to-day
They never thought o. doubtin' ont;
An they want easy tired o. say'n
An singin' ont an shoutin' ont.
guess never saw the woods
So heapin' full O. blessedness;
1clean forgot that was heir
To all Nv Adams cussedness.
My spirit seemed to j'ine the quoir
An help the ginnle hollerin':
got ez much o. j'y Ell
wuz capable O swollerin'.
~ r lndependent.