After Next Year's Crop.
Oh, you'll never find a country,
Look you far or look you near,
That can hold its own with Kansas__
Sunny Kansas without peer!
For there's health in all her breezes,
And the ozone in the air
Makes you feel as rich as Croesus,
Tho a pauper otherwhere;
And you find yourself a-dreaming
Happy dreams that will not stop,
Till they 'ye got you past the harvest
It is true sometimes things worry,__
Sure, the outlook's mighty blue
When the wind gets sou'-sou'westward
And blows hot a whole week through;
When the chinch-bug gets his work in
And the 'hoppers take the rest;
When a cyclone or a hailstorm
Knocks the wheat-fields galley west.
But we soon forget these trifles,
For we know we'll be on top
When we gather in the shekels
And in politics I'm thinking
You will find us much the same:
If at times a trifle flighty,
Level-headed in the main.
We brought home our John James Ingalls
And sent Peffer with his dreams,
Just to be an object-lesson
Of our statesmanship's extremes.
But the Pops will be converted,
Even Democrats will flop,
When they bank their honest dollars
Oh, we'll get there __ don't you doubt it !
And it won't be very long
Till there rolls from off these prairies
A cyclopean, joyous song.
For there's Hope in Kansas sunshine,
And there's Faith in Kansas soil,
And we know right well that Plenty
Will reward our honest toil.
So we whistle while we hustle,
And we'll work until we drop,
For we'll all be wearing diamonds
__Frederick J. Atwood.