Johnson, Maggie Pogue
Had I the wings of a bird,
I'd make it a constant duty
To fly far above the earth
And gaze on it's wondrous beauty.
Had I the mind of a poet,
I'd always try to write
Poems of thrilling beauty
To fill some mind with delight.
I'd love to stroll in distant lands,
Among the rocks and rills,
And see the works of Nature's hands
And gaze on the distant hills.
I'd love to listen to the birds
That sing their songs of praise
And make some poor souls happy
In their saddest days.
It would be to my delight
To stand at the river side
And gaze on the placid water
As it slowly and playfully glides.
I'd love to write of the beautiful,
I'd love to write of the brave,
And read the minds of others,
And note their winning ways.
I would not judge the beautiful
By the beauty of their faces,
By suppositions or the like,
Or their pretended graces.
It brings to my mind once again
The maxim that I love,
And one of the sayings as of old,
"Beauty is the beauty does."