Show THE POTTERS SONG turn turns turn my turn round and round i without a pause without a sound so spins the flying world awall this clay well mixed with mari marl and sand follows the motion of my rny hand band for some rome must follow and some come command though all are made of clay turn turn my all things must changa I 1 to something new V ti something strange nothing thatis that is can pause or stay tho the moon will wax the moon will wane the mist and cloud will turn to rain to today to day turn turo turn my all ali life la brief what now Is bud will goon boon be leaf what now la Is leaf will eoon soon decay the winds blow cast the winds blow wet west tho the blue eggs in the robbins nesi I 1 will soon have hare wings aad and bent beak and and flutter flatter andily away turn turn my this earthen ar jar A touch can make a touch canman canar and shall it to the potter bay say what mageet thou shou hast but no hand band As men who think to understand A world by their creator clann cd who wisor wiser is than they turn tarn my va natures tures plan pian the child should grow into the man mans Theman the che man grow wrinkled old oid and irray gray in youth the heart exults and bings the pulses leap the feet have wings in age the cricket chirps and brings the harvest heme berno of day turn turn my the human race of eveny every tongue of every place places caucasian coptic or malay all that inhabit this great earth whatever be his hia rank or worth worthy are kindred and allied by birth and made of the same clay turn turn my what is begun must at dark be done dond tomorrow to morrow will be another day tomorrow to morrow the hot furnace flame will search the heart and try the frame and stamp with bonor honor or with shame these vessels made of clay stop steps stop my Tco soon too soon the noon will be the afternoon too soon the day ba be yesterday behind us in our path wo we cast the broken potsherds pots herds of tho tho the past and all alt are ground to dust at jast last and trodden into clay clayr from efrom Long fellows gie IgE cramos |