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Edgar Guest - The Cure For Weariness
Work rating: Low

Seemed like I couldn`t stand it any more,
  The factory whistles blowin` day by day,
An` men an` children hurryin` by the door,
  An` street cars clangin` on their busy way.
The faces of the people seemed to be
  Washed pale by tears o` grief an` strife an` care,
Till everywhere I turned to I could see
  The same old gloomy pictures of despair.

The windows of the shops all looked the same,
  Decked out with stuff their owners wished to sell;
When visitors across our doorway came
  I could recite the tales they`d have to tell.
All things had lost their old-time power to please;
  Dog-tired I was an` irritable, too,
An` so I traded chimney tops for trees,
  An` shingled roof for open skies of blue.

I dropped my tools an` took my rod an` line
  An` tackle box an` left the busy town;
I found a favorite restin` spot of mine
  Where no one seeks for fortune or renown.
I whistled to the birds that flew about,
  An` built a lot of castles in my dreams;
I washed away the stains of care an` doubt
  An` thanked the Lord for woods an` running streams.

I`ve cooked my meals before an open fire,
  I`ve had the joy of green smoke in my face,
I`ve followed for a time my heart`s desire
  An` now the path of duty I retrace.
I`ve had my little fishin` trip, an` go
  Once more contented to the haunts of men;
I`m ready now to hear the whistles blow
  An` see the roofs an` chimney tops again.
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