TO A PATIENT WIFE
Remorse descends upon me now
As I recall our marriage vow,
And think of things I did not do
That might have lessened toil for you.
I never learned to grow a flower I never learned to make a fire,
To fix the roof or hang a door
Hays, Brooks; Poetry; Little Rock (Ark.)--Race relations;
A HYMN OF BROTHERHOOD
Written by Brooks Hays during the period of racial tension in Little Rock.
Beneath these warm and friendly southern skies, The Ozark hills adorn a verdant plain.
The handiwork of pioneers we prize,
As well, the beauty of this...