Man with a cutter PLOW
Ishall be going soon where no one knows: I shall go to my pine pole mountain shack.
Before the autumn comes and summer goes,
Before leaves fall—I must be going back.
I was not made to walk on streets of stone And breathe into [...]
White clouds are rolling over paradise
And over his bare feet that tramp the furrow;
He stands and looks with eager watchful eyes
And dreams of far-off lands beyond this hollow.
His little world encircled by high ridges
Is world enough to hol [...]