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When this hard day’s work is finished,
An’ all seems hushed an’ still,
‘Cept the soft an’ gentle murmur
Of the little muddied rill,
When the great round sun has vanished,
In a sea of red an’ gold,
Everything looks like a picture
That’s taken from Nature’s mould.
It is then my proudest moment
As I sit surveyin’ all
With my dear old pipe agoin’
When the twilight shadows fall.
I sit alone an’ dreamin’
Of those days that’s dead an’ gone,
When I was a little fellow
‘Bout half as tall as that corn.
Runnin' round half clothed,but happy
'Tending to my father's cows,
Never dreamin' of the future
As I'd sit an' watch 'em browse.
All these things come to my mem’ry
As I sit surveyin’ all
With my dear old pipe agoin’
When the twilight shadows fall.
In our small an’ cozy kitchen
My wife’s a-workin’ round,
Clearing up the supper dishes,
An’ their sharp and clinking sound,
Seems to have some sort o’ music
That is very soft an’ sweet
An’ I often fall to rhymin’,
Sitting on this garden seat.
Everything seems full of po’try
As I sit surveyin’ all,
With my dear old pipe agoin’
When the twilight shadows fall.
I could linger here forever,
Stringin’ po’try, but my wife
Says that all these modern poets
Live a sort of humdrum life.
But this life that I’m aleadin’
Is just fit for any king,
An’ I’d bet he’d swap his fortune
For a taste of this calm spring.
“This is my little kingdom,”
I have thought surveyin’ all
With my dear old pipe agoin’
When the twilight shadows fall.
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