When My Cork
Goes Out O' Sight.
Gettin' old? Well, yes, a bit,
But I still hev' got the grit
When the birds begin to sing
In the early days o' spring
Fer to mosey down the crick,
With a swing just fairly quick
Fer an old man; an' to stay
On the bank the livelong day.
Thankful fer these days so bright__
When my cork goes out o' sight.
Old in years though I may be,
Yet the spring my heart sets free,
It makes me but a boy again,
Jes a little boy o ten,
Makes me long to start once more
Down the crick as in days of yore;
And this longing fills my heart
Till I get my pole an' start
Down the crick, a boy again,
Jes' a little boy o' ten.
Seems as natural as sin
Fer some fellers to begin
Workin', when the noisy bird
In the tree top first is heard;
Jes' as natural fer me
Fer to sit beneath that tree,
With my fishin' pole 'n' line,
'N' a feelin' most divine,
Watchin', waitin' with delight
Till my cork goes out o' sight.
When my cork goes out o' sight,
Say, you bet I'm livin' right;
For there's something of a treat,
(In the line of things to eat),
Comes to me in early spring,
When the birds are on the wing,
And contentment rich 'n' rare
Fills my heart while sittin' there.
Fer sweet joy and pure delight
Let my cork go out o' sight!
__Ed Blair.
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