Forty Years

Forty years of toil an’ strife,

Forty years of farmin’ life,

Forty years of ups an’ downs,

Forty years of thorns an’ crowns.

Forty years of happiness,

Mixed with sorrer, more or less;

Thet hez come to me an’ mine,

Forty years of rain an’ shine.

Ain’t a-findin’ fault, not me,

Sech things ain’t to my idee.

Take things as they come along,

Mix a dirge up with a song;

Keep a clear hole in the sky

Fur the sunshine by an’ by.

Keep a kind word handy, too;

Feller allus needs a few.

Forty years of joy an’ pain,

Forty years of loss an’ gain;

Forty years of stiddy toil

In the never ending soil.

Forty years of strain an’ stress,

Forty years of some success.

Forty years of a-down the track,

But I wouldn’t want ‘em back.

Ain’t complainin’, not a mite,

Ef I ain’t won all the fight;

I hev got a little share

Of spoils; why should I care?

I hev got the farm, an’ her

Best of all life’s presents, sir.

Forty years this blessed day,

Forty years, still on the way.

Forty more? Ah more, or less,

Each one crowned with happiness!

May 20, ‘09