le Wayne was always there
To serve the rock and rye.

And Big Wayne never failed a friend,
Or stopped to chat or lie,
And no one entering his doors
Was known to leave there dry.

And many a time some timberman
Would land himself in jail,
But Big Wayne always lent a hand,
And went the wretch's bail.

Some of the buildings still are there,
Along the old-time ways.
Silent and dark their windows stare
Gray ghosts of bygone days.

No sound of merriment or song,
No dancing footsteps fall;
The days of fifty years ago,
Are gone beyond recall.

So to Big Wayne and Little Wayne,
Big Sandy's pride and boast,
And to the old-time waterfront,
Let's drink a farewell toast.

While to the old-time timbermen,
This song we'll dedicate,
Who fought their battles with their fists,
And took their whiskey straight.

--Coby Preston

WEST VIRGINIA

There is singing in the mountain where the sturdy hill folk meet,
There is singing in the valleys where the days are warm and sweet,
There is singing in the cities where the crowds of workers throng,
Wherever we meet, no day is complete, for West Virginians without a song.

West Virginia, land of beauty, West Virginia, land of song,

West Virginia, hear the singing of the crystal mountain streams,
Songs of joy and songs of power to fulfill man's mightiest dreams,
West Virginia, hear the singing of thy shadowed forest trees,
Holding the winds, holding the floods, so that thy sons may be at ease.

West Virginia, land of beauty, West Virginia, land of song.

--Esther Eugenia Davis

SKYLINE DRIVE

The Skyline Drive is not a road
To bring you near the skies
Where you can sit and gather clouds
That flit before your eyes,
Or jump upon a golden fleece
And sail to paradise--
But it is a super-mountain road
Where you can feast your eyes
Upon the beauties of