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Lament Of A Box Wagon
My time has passed. I'm broken-hearted
Many who knew me have long departed
I don't look like much we're all agreed
Ain't nobody, nowhere, can fill my need.
Long before today's machine
I, the box wagon, with scoop board, was queen.
It was thump, thump, thump on frosty morn
As my bump board caught big ears of corn.
No tractor there to chug up front
Big loads of corn made horses grunt.
Now 8-row cornheads set the pace.
It saddens me I have no place.
No brawny husker now can boast
50 bushels by noon more than most!
Picking corn was the biggest part
Unloading it also worked the heart.
Drop the scoop board, then begin
Scoop off the corn and go again
Back to the field is where we went
For 50 bushels more my husker bent.
Few men could match his honest toil
Now he rests down in the soil.
But Im still here. I can use the rest.
Just remember this: I could test the best.

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2002 - Volume #26, Issue #3