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A Slave of the City

From The Birmingham Age Herald, June 23, 1915.

His heart dwells in fair country lanes,
    The pleasant rural places,
Where days go by as in a dream
    And no one ever races
In maddened quest of fame and wealth,
    Unmoved by love or pity,
And tramples weaker brothers down,
    As folks do in the city.

His heart dwells in the peaceful realm
    Of meadow, hill and dale,
Where smoky billows never stain
    The cloud-ships as they sail,
And where there’s much that’s more worth while
    Than worldly place and power,
And something of God’s plan is taught
    By every wayside flower.

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