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Poem by Emily Pauline Johnson


Erie Waters


A dash of yellow sand,
Wind-scattered and sun-tanned;
Some waves that curl and cream along the margin of the strand;
And, creeping close to these
Long shores that lounge at ease,
Old Erie rocks and ripples to a fresh sou'-western breeze.

A sky of blue and grey;
Some stormy clouds that play
At scurrying up with ragged edge, then laughing blow away,
Just leaving in their trail
Some snatches of a gale;
To whistling summer winds we lift a single daring sail.

O! wind so sweet and swift,
O! danger-freighted gift
Bestowed on Erie with her waves that foam and fall and lift,
We laugh in your wild face,
And break into a race
With flying clouds and tossing gulls that weave and interlace. 



Emily Pauline Johnson


Emily Pauline Johnson's other poems:
  1. Golden - of the Selkirks
  2. Wolverine
  3. The Train Dogs
  4. The Riders of the Plains
  5. The Art of Alma-Tadema


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