The Woods Were Made For The Hunter

A Hundred Thousand Men Were Led By One Calf Near Three Centuries Dead; They Followed Still His Crooked Way And Lost A Hundred Years A Day; For Thus Such Reverence Is Lent To Well Established Precedent.

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?

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.

Just Drop Your Bucket Where You Are.

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.