I own for my pleasure, I yearn not for treasure, Though gold has a power it lends; And I have a notion, To find without motion, The place where the rainbow ends. The pot may hold pottage, The place be a cottage, That a humble contentment defends, Only joy fills its coffer, But spite of the scoffer, There's the place where the rainbow ends. Where care shall be quiet, And love shall run riot, And I shall find wealth in my friends; Then truce to the story, Of riches and glory; There's the place where the rainbow ends. HOPE De dog go howlin' 'long de road, De night come shiverin' down; My back is tiahed of its load, I cain't be fu' f'om town. No mattah ef de way is long, My haht is swellin' wid a song, No mattah 'bout de frownin' skies, I'll soon be home to see my Lize. My shadder staggah on de way, It's monstous col' to-night; But I kin hyeah my honey say "W'y bless me if de sight O' you ain't good fu' my so' eyes." (Dat talk's dis lak my lady Lize) I's so'y case de way was long But Lawd you bring me love an' song. No mattah ef de way is long, An' ef I trimbles so' I knows de fiah's burnin' strong, Behime my Lizy's do'. An' daih my res' an' joy shell be, Whaih my ol' wife's awaitin' me-- Why what I keer fu' stingin' blas', I see huh windah light at las'. APPRECIATION My muvver's ist the nicest one 'At ever lived wiz folks; She lets you have ze mostes' fun, An' laffs at all your jokes. I got a ol' maid auntie, too, The worst you ever saw; Her eyes ist bore you through and through,-- She ain't a bit like ma. She's ist as slim, as slim can be, An' when you want to slide Down on ze balusters, w'y she Says 'at she's harrified. She ain't as nice as Uncle Ben, What says 'at little boys Won't never grow to be big men Unless they're fond of noise. But muvver's nicer zan 'em all, She calls you, "precious lamb," An' let's you roll your ten-pin ball, An' spreads your bread wiz jam. An' when you're bad, she ist looks sad, You fink she's goin' to cry; An' when she don't you're awful glad, An' den you're good, Oh, my! At night, she takes ze softest hand, An' lays it on your head, An' says "Be off to Sleepy-Land By way o' trundle-bed." So when you fink what muvver knows An' aunts an' uncle tan't, It skeers a feller; ist suppose His muvver 'd been a aunt. A SONG On a summer's day as I sat by a stream, A dainty maid came by, And she blessed my sight like a rosy dream, And left me there to sigh, to sigh, And left me there to sigh, to sigh. On another day as I sat by the stream, This maiden paused a while, Then I made me bold as I told my dream, She heard it with a smile, a smile, She heard it with a smile, a smile.