Song of the Oktahutchee
FAR, far, far are my silver waters drawn; The hills embrace me, loth to let me go; The maidens think me fair to look upon, And trees lean over, glad to hear me flow. Thro' field and valley, green because of me, I wander, wander to the distant sea. Thro' lonely places and thro' crowded ways, Thro' noise of strife and thro' the solitude, And on thro' cloudy days and sunny days, I journey till I meet, in sisterhood, The broad Canadian, red with the sunset, Now calm, now raging with a mighty fret! On either hand, in a grand colonnade, The cottonwoods rise in the azure sky, And purple mountains cast a purple shade As I, now grave, now laughing, pass them by; The birds of air dip bright wings in my tide, In sunny reaches where I noiseless glide. O'er sandy reaches with rocks and mussel-shells, Blue over spacious beds of amber sand, By hanging cliffs, by glens where echo dwells-- Elusive spirit of the shadow-land-- Forever blest and blessing do I go, A-wid'ning in the morning's roseate glow. Tho' I sing my song in a minor key, Broad lands and fair attest the good I do; Tho' I carry no white sails to the sea, Towns nestle in the vales I wander thro'; And quails are whistling in the waving grain, And herds are scattered o'er the verdant plain.
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