Show 4 bol A bale of hay flay by walt mason t OME bards their harp strings deftly strike and sing of roses and the S SOME I 1 ke of coral isles and start t seas and birds whose plumage gi ds the breeze but I 1 sing ung at close of day my song is of a bale of ha hay 0 s oale that takes me back across the years on dreamy track to sunny ields where strong men wrought the fields that idlers never sought with wringing raiment on their backs they shaped their N androws and their stacks I 1 see and hear it all again the cheery vo ces of the men the thirsty with apt cited jugs the horses straining in their t gs the mo ver q blankin cl clanging anKin rauco is roar the glad march home lome when day as 0 er and when the lay hay was cured and bright and aptly named the n ul s delight tey fed it to the press and made the bale for which my harp is played bach each handful of this fragrant hay suggests along a ion long summer day oi 01 honest wise productive toil of aresti ng with the paren so I 1 no dreamers made th s bulky bale no trifling men or poets I 1 ale no loafers placed the wire around no lily fingers raked the ground but men of might were there that day and wrought to build that bale of hay and so with lilting roundelay do I 1 embalm the bale of hay |