From the Rock Island Argus, March 27, 1914. By Henry Howland.
Ain’t it splendid to be livin’, ‘long ‘bout this time o’ year,
With the green things peepin’ upward and the mornings crisp and clear;
With the children’s cheeks a-glowin’ and the future lookin’ bright,
And the gladdened roosters crowin’ just for fun with all their might?
Ain’t it cheerful, ain’t it splendid to get out and whiff the air
When the winter time is ended and there’s beauty everywhere,
When the buds are busy swellin’ and the colts kick up their heels
And the lambs quit friskin’ hardly long enough to get their meals?
Ain’t it fine to hear the cackle of the hen whose heart is light
And to have the will to tackle any job there is in sight?
Ain’t it fine to see things growin’ just the way they used to grow,
And to feel the warm wind blowin’ just the way it used to blow?
Ain’t it good to start the furrow and to smell the new-plowed earth,
And to hear the blackbirds chatter, huntin’ worms for all they’re worth?
Ain’t it good to hear the ringin’ of the distant dinner bell,
And to hear the robin singin’ just to show that all is well?
Ain’t it lucky to be livin’ when the blossoms brighten things,
And you’re waitin’ for the summer with the gladness that it brings?
Ain’t it good to see the gleamin’ dandelions in the lane;
Don’t it kind of start you dreamin’ the old boyhood dreams again?
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