Poetry

Lake County Press, Issue 2356, 29 December 1910, Page 2

Poetry

THE DOLLAR CAME. By David C. Gale. ' I never got the habit. That seems to be the craze. Of chasin’ after money, I’ve occupied my days With things a little foolish, Perhaps, but just the same. I’m gettin’ some enjoyment Without the dollar game. I’d sort o’ miss the country— The blue o’ God o’erhead— If you’s to take it from me, An’ give me gold instead. I’d miss the oldtime freedom An’ sigh for it in vain; You can’t be pickin’ roses, An’ play the dollar game. I’m short o’ lands an’,houses; My bank account is slight; The ship that holds my fortune Has never come in sight. But all my nights are restful, My health is never lame, So what’s the use o’ tryin’ To join the dollar game?

It never fiets me any Because I’m second class In all the ways o’ dressing I only want to pass. My house is nothin’ fancy; My street is just a lane; An’ yet I ain’t lamentin’ About the dollar game. The rules are far from simple; Perhaps I couldn’t learn To corner bonds an’ chattels, An’ gain at ev’ry turn. But all I want’s a livin’ The rest may have the fame---I’ll jog along contented, An’ watch the dollar game. He that is down need fear no fall, lie that is low, no pride; He that is humble cyer shall Have God to be his guide. I am content with what 1 have, Little be it or much; And, Lord, contentment still I crave, Because Thou savest such. Fullness to such a burden is That go on pilgrimage: Here little, and hcraftcr bliss Is best from age to age. —John Bunyan.