. Book of song poems. ndeed,There by wind motors they grind their feed, For on the plains theres always a gale,A very few days but it will turn the wheel. Hidden by a wooded screen,While we sing of the Cimarron. Let us sing of the Cimarron:r\s it liows purer it doth growTill it reaches the Gulf of Mexico, While we sing of the Cimarron. August, 1905. OKLAHOMA. WELL sing of our sunny clime,As we all its beauties see:The springs and streams so its rich valleys and trees. Well sing of our sunny clime, Once by the red man trod,But now in rich fields of grain There we see along the road. W
. Book of song poems. ndeed,There by wind motors they grind their feed, For on the plains theres always a gale,A very few days but it will turn the wheel. Hidden by a wooded screen,While we sing of the Cimarron. Let us sing of the Cimarron:r\s it liows purer it doth growTill it reaches the Gulf of Mexico, While we sing of the Cimarron. August, 1905. OKLAHOMA. WELL sing of our sunny clime,As we all its beauties see:The springs and streams so its rich valleys and trees. Well sing of our sunny clime, Once by the red man trod,But now in rich fields of grain There we see along the road. Well sing of our sunny land:—Could you count its wealth?— And of its industries on every hand,With its red roses of health. Well sing of our sunny landAs we write our fondest dreams, Where we hear Natures band Let us paint all the lovely scenes. Well sing of our sunny land: Theres the beauties of early spring, Where the sunbeams play on the golden strand, And Nature her rich treasures doth bring. September, 1905175. The Hawaiian Islands. Here the Hawaiian Islands are their tropical fruits and forests green, Theres their beauties far out at sea,Wliere grows the palm, orange and fern tree. o OUR ISLAND POSSESSIONS. UT on the ocean so boundless we sail, Tossed on the waves of a rough, restless gale,Were sailing on, sailing on. Now weve left the ports of our native land,Rocked on the waves of the deep on deck we stand,Were sailing on, sailing on- Many are the birds near our vessel stay,On the crest of the waves the sunbeams ^ere sailing on, sailing on. We see the golden sun as it sinks in the west,The bright, silvery moon as it rises in the sailing on, sailing on. Theres the Philippines, a thousand or more,With tropical fruits and forests on their sailing on, sailing on. Now safe into port we sail once more,And the lovely isles well there moving on, moving on. ALASKA. WELL sing of a land far, far away,Where the glittering mountai
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