The Islands: Island Stories: William C. Dixon Lyrics & Poems

William C. Dixon Lyrics & Poems




Please let me know if you know of any
other such poems or stories!

The Following all submitted by Thelma Moye thanks to Nan and Bill Dixon







Lyrics:

Image If Only
From Outstanding Song Poems and Lyricists edited and compiled by Paul Emery Carter

Sheet Music for You Ask my Why I'm Loney
Cover
Page 1
Page 2

Since Father Lost his Whiskers
Submitted to The Times


Articles:

LYRICS WRITTEN BY CLAYTON RESIDENT WILL BE PUBLISHED Clayton, July 23. – The song lyric, “If Only,” written by William C. Dixon, sr., of this village has been accepted for publication by the Exposition press, New York. Mr. Dixon previously wrote, “Don’t Forget Your Mother” and “You Asked Me Why I’m Lonely,” which were published by the Zimmerman Print, Cincinnati, O., and Legters Music company, Chicago, Ill., respectively.
Submitted by Thelma Moye

Historical House on Old French Creek
Article about poem-poem also listed
Submitted by Thelma Moye

Poems

Grandpa Stole Away
Submitted to a Paper

Thanksgiving
Submitted to The Times, Letters From section- 1929

Drifting
Submitted to a Paper

Unknown title
(Thanks to Jerry Vaughn for transcribing this for the site)

When I was a young thing
I lived with my granny
And many the cautions
She gave unto me
Always to be wise
And take care for the boys
And never tumble my petacoat
Over my knee

But sporting young Jony
Who lives in the valley
Last Saturday nite
Came courting to me
And then I forgot
All about my old granny
And he tumbled
My petacoat over my knee


WHEN ROSES BLOOM AGAIN
(Thanks to Jerry Vaughn for transcribing this for the site)

Soon roses will be blooming
In some forgotten place,
Planted there so long ago
Some dear home, then to Grace
We do not know who planted them
And we can only guess
Perhaps some bride of long ago
Yet there’s no one to confess
Perhaps a hundred years or more
Since they were planted there
Yet each year they bloom again
And always just as fair.

W. C. Dixon, Sr.
Clayton, N. Y.


AS A POET VIEWS IT
Written for On The St. Lawrence
Lafargeville, N. Y. March 14, 1932
(Thanks to Jerry Vaughn for transcribing this for the site)

I was so sure that Spring was near,
And soon I’d be digging greens,
For the tulips were already up,
And soon I’d be planting beans.

The sun it shone so nice and warm,
And the sweat was on my brow,
Then I hid my winter socks
And I cannot find them now.

This old snow storm it came along,
Along with a howling breeze,
Alas! My plans are all upset,
And I think that I will freeze.

My bantam corn and lima beans
That I grow for succotash,
Will have to wait now quite a while,
While I fill up on hash.

For snow now is lying thick
Where I planned to rake and spade;
There won’t be even dandelions
For a long time, I’m afraid.

I will have to eat the same old grub
At least two months or more
And likely have the scurvy too,
And can’t get out of doors.

If any one last year did can
Some greens, most any kind.
Please send me some by Parcel Post
Before I lose my mind.

Uncle Bill


The Trouble of an Frenchman
(Thanks to Jerry Vaughn for transcribing this for the site)

Last week I say to myself Joe
Why you don’t make good lot of money
Why you don’t keep good lot of Bee
So you can have de honey
So den I look my self around
to see where I could bye him
Some man, he let me have de bee
to take him home and try him
he say one Swarm of bee I tink
maby he will be a plenty
and when you learn about de trick
den I will sell you twenty
So den I go and fetch de bee
and load him in my barrow
den I wheel dem be all night
untill it is tomorrow
When I get home de sun he shine
my wife she see me coming
she say Joe you got de bee
for I can hear him humming
I tole he yes he hum all right
for he want to get away
but I got him fasten in de hive
so I can make him stay
Now I set dat hive down on de ground
My wife she help me too
and when I take dat screen away
I find something else to do
Dem bees was mad like everything
when dey got out in de air
some get into my pants leg
some get into my hair
I know for shure I do get kill
den my wife she got no man
for all dem bees was after me
When I run just like I can
I stub my toe & fall down too
my wife she gone ahead
She get inside and lock de door
And den crall into bead
den I run me round de house
for I can’t get in de door
for all dem bees was after me
and den I run some more
I tink about dat new hay stack
So I take some different route
I dive my head all in de hay
so just my feet stick out
I stay dere most all dat day
and listen for dem bee
to see if dey had gone away
or was still after me
after while my wife she come
when it was almost night
and tell me Joe now you can come
for dem bees dey was all quiet
I do not tink I keep de bee
I tink I buy de honey
when I want it on de tabe
I tink I pay de money

Hoarding and Spending
I hoard no money in the bank,
I’ll tell the president;
I might as well confess right now
I haven’t got a cent.
When I have paid for bed and board
And also alimony.
I can’t afford to spend or hoard,
I live on borrowed money.

‘Tis easy sure to give advice
We hear it every day.
But when you haven’t got the price
How are you going to pay?
The miser who by cunning stealth
And who could best afford,
Will not disgorge his treasured wealth
By any cry of “hoard”.

‘Tis sure a tough old universe
To try and struggle through,
And if perchance it should grow worse
I wonder what we’ll do
The Baker says, “I make the dough,
But sales are gone to Hell;
I’ve got to give a radio
With every loaf I sell.
(Submitted by Thelma Moye)





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