English

anyone lived in a pretty how town
(with up so floating many bells down)
spring summer autumn winter
he sang his didn't he danced his did.

Women and men (both little and small)
cared for anyone not at all
they sowed their isn't they reaped their same
sun moon stars rain

children guessed (but only a few
and down they forgot as up they grew
autumn winter spring summer)
that noone loved him more by more

when by now and tree by leaf
she laughed his joy she cried his grief

I.

O H ! nymph of pallid hue, and raven hair,
 That in sequester'd scenes art wont to rest,
 Deep-nurturing in thy sorrow-heaving breast
Some weight of grief, that none with thee may share;
Whose eye, whence tears have long forgot to flow,
 To Heaven directed looks, of earth afraid:
How sacred gleams that form of speechless woe!
 And sacred are thy haunts, thou solitary maid!

II.

Oft art thou seen beside the willowy stream;
 And, thouh no youthful smile adorn thy face,

1663 1728
Grim Cotton Mather
Was always seeing witches,
Daylight, moonlight,
They buzzed about his head,
Pinching him and plaguing him
With aches and pains and stitches,
Witches in his pulpit,
Witches by his bed.

Nowadays, nowadays,
We'd say that he was crazy,
But everyone believed him
In old Salem town
And nineteen people
Were hanged for Salem witches
Because of Cotton Mather
And his long, black gown.

Old Cotton Mather
Didn't die happy.
He could preach and thunder,

VERSE

The odds were a hundred to one against me,
The world thought the heights were too high to climb.
But people from Missouri never incensed me:
Oh, I wasn't a bit concerned,
For from hist'ry I had learned
How many, many times the worm had turned.

REFRAIN 1

They all laughed at Christopher Columbus
When he said the world was round;
They all laughed when Edison recorded sound.
They all laughed at Wilbur and his brother
When they said that man could fly;

VERSE

I'm a glum one; it's explainable:
I met someone unattainable;
Life's a bore,
The world is my oyster no more.
All the papers, where I led the news
With my capers, now will spread the news:
“Superman
Turns Out to Be Flash in the Pan.”

  REFRAIN 1

I've flown around the world in a plane;
I won the race from Newport to Maine;
The North Pole I have charted,
But I can't get started with you.
Around a golf course I'm under par;
The Theatre Guilders want me to star;

The answer that ye made to me, my dear,
When I did sue for my poor heart's redress,
Hath so appall'd my countenance and my cheer
That in this case I am all comfortless,
Since I of blame no cause can well express.

I have no wrong where I can claim no right,
Nought ta'en me fro where I have nothing had,
Yet of my woe I cannot so be quite:
Namely, since that another may be glad,
With that that thus in sorrow makes me sad.

Nor none can claim, I say, by former grant
That knoweth not of any grant at all;

Another year is dawning!
Dear Master, let it be,
In working or in waiting,
Another year with Thee.

Another year of leaning
Upon Thy loving breast,
Another year of trusting,
Of quiet, happy rest.

Another year of mercies,
Of faithfulness and grace;
Another year of gladness
In the shining of Thy face.

Another year of progress
Another year of praise;
Another year of proving
Thy presence all the days.

Another year of service,
Of witness for Thy love;

He was running with his friend from town to town.
They were somewhere between Prague and Dresden.
He was fourteen. His friend was faster.
and knew a shortcut through the fields they could take.
He said there was lettuce growing in one of them,
and they hadn't eaten all day. His friend ran a few lengths ahead,
like a wild rabbit across the grass,
turned his head, looked back once,
and his body was scattered across the field.

My father told us this, one night,
and then continued eating dinner.

— A NNIE Shore, 'twas, sang last night
— — Down in South End saloon;
— A tawdry creature in the light,
— Painted cheeks, eyes over bright,
— — Singing a dance-hall tune.

I'd be forgetting Annie's singing —
— I'd not have thought again —
But for the thing that cried and fluttered
— Through all the shrill refrain:
Youth crying above foul words, cheap music,
— And innocence in pain.

— They sentenced Johnnie Doon today
— — For murder, stark and grim:
— Death's none too dear a price, they say,

  REFRAIN

Sit there and count your fingers.
What can you do?
Old girl, you're through.
Sit there and count your little fingers,
Unlucky little girl blue.
Sit there and count the raindrops
Falling on you.
It's time you knew
All you can count on is the raindrops
That fall on little girl blue.
No use, old girl,
You may as well surrender.
Your hope is getting slender.
Why won't somebody send a tender
Blue boy, to cheer a
Little girl blue?

  TRIO PATTER