The Woods Were Made For

Strew Gladness On The Paths Of Men-you Will Not Pass This Way Again.

Where Shall We Get Religion? Beneath The Open Sky, The Sphere Of Crystal Silence Surcharged With Deity.. The Midnight Earth Sends Incense Up, Sweet With The Breath Of Prayer -- Go Out Beneath The Naked Night And Get Religion There.

W'en You See A Man In Woe, Walk Right Up And Say Hullo. Say Hullo And How D'ye Do, How's The World A-usin' You? . W'en You Travel Through The Strange Country T'other Side The Range, Then The Souls You've Cheered Will Know Who You Be, An' Say Hullo.

There Are Purple Grapes In The Land Of Git-thare.

One Day Through The Primeval Wood A Calf Walked Home As Good Calves Should; But Made A Trail All Bent Askew, A Crooked Trail As All Calves Do. . . . . And Men Two Centuries And A Half Trod In The Footsteps Of That Calf.