File:Out-door reveries (1920) (14744090806).jpg

Identifier: outdoorreveries00jaqu (find matches)
Title: Out-door reveries
Year: 1920 (1920s)
Authors: Jaques, E. Parker Jaques, Francis Lee, 1887-1969
Subjects:
Publisher: Kansas City, Mo. : Burton Pub. Co.
Contributing Library: The Library of Congress
Digitizing Sponsor: Sloan Foundation

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Text Appearing Before Image:
er . 27 On Roseau Trail 30 Night on the Roseau 34 Hid in the Woods 37 Storm in Camp 40 Last of the Nomads 41 The Dreamer .... 42 Loafin With a Gun 44 Sand-Hill Crane 48 Voice of the Teal..... 50 Wooing of the Grouse 54 In the Stubble Long Ago 57 Rancher at Home 61 Rancher Abroad 68 Linds Borg Hill 79 The Source 81 The Sixth Hour 83 Old Home Town 86 The Need of Man Is Men 89 A Summer Outing.. 91 When Evolution Sleeps 97 Evolution of the Marshes 98 Over the Great Divide 105 Song of the Politician 115 County Convention 117 The Boys Are Growing Old 120 Where Words Failed 123 Kansas 124 Man and River 127 Outdoor Reveries 11 BIRTH OP POETRY. By the margin of a river, On a prairie long ago,Where the snow capped mountains guarded, And the blue stem to and froNodded in the passing breezes, With a soft rhythmatic swing,Grew a flower soothed and nourished By the rivers murmuring,And its budding sweetness blended With the blushes of the morn.Breeze and stream a cadence lended And Poetry was born.
Text Appearing After Image:
•• * Outdoor Retries 13 SPORTSMANS REVERIE. By a rush-fringed stream, in lonely tent, Far from the haunts of men,I listless lie, as the hours drift by, And as listless think, and then,— I think of the mission that brought me here,From my home in the distant east, I think of the sad condition of man,His perversity passeth belief. For Im out in pursuit of the birds of the air,And fishes that swim in the stream; Yet today they are safe from gun or snare,For today Im a dreamer of dreams. My gun in a corner is leaning, A fish-rod lies down by the stream, Where I flung it this morning while gleaningFrom nature, the source of my dream. The birds sing sweetly just outside my door, A grass-plover twitters of loveWhile the mate whistles back his assurance As he floats, a mere speck, far above. From a copse near by comes a cat-birds callAnd a black-birds pert chap-chap, A tell-tale scolds at my canvas wall;A cow-bird peers in at the flap.

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