Elizabethan days . LYCOMING CREEK H, treacherous Lycoming Creek,If you could only speak,Fd ask the reasonWhy at most every seasonLike a tame serpentYou glide by! And, through your innocence, Won the confidence Of dwellers by your edge. And those who crossed the bridge, You cant deny? Sudden a torrent you became,Tearing with wild acclaim,Ripped out the bridges span—Wrecked a freight, drowned a man-Yes, two or three now lie belowBuried where your currents flow,Forever and aye! 42. SPOOK HILLS GHOST T best Spook Hills a lonely space,The very top a graveyard, through a fringeOf graceful locusts on


Elizabethan days . LYCOMING CREEK H, treacherous Lycoming Creek,If you could only speak,Fd ask the reasonWhy at most every seasonLike a tame serpentYou glide by! And, through your innocence, Won the confidence Of dwellers by your edge. And those who crossed the bridge, You cant deny? Sudden a torrent you became,Tearing with wild acclaim,Ripped out the bridges span—Wrecked a freight, drowned a man-Yes, two or three now lie belowBuried where your currents flow,Forever and aye! 42. SPOOK HILLS GHOST T best Spook Hills a lonely space,The very top a graveyard, through a fringeOf graceful locusts one can see the stonesThat tell Waynes founders resting place;And close beside, the unsightly signal tower,Where brave Clendenin died by cowards hand,And in the gully grows a maple treeAll hollowed out that it could hide a man:Low scrubby pines, and brush and briers sway,And make it awesome—even in midday. For Spooks Hill Ghost is not a thing of night,But chooses when the brightest daylight shinesTo stalk, a headless figure in a soldier suit,Poking among the elders and the vinesIn search, perchance, for its own missing headChopped off by Indians, so legends repeat—And when one meets it, blind the spectre seems,As it will face you, and you will retreat,Leaving the mutilated sprite pursue its way,This ghost that haunts not night, but day! 43


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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1910, bookidelizabethand, bookyear1912