. Out-door reveries. 48 Outdoor Reveries SAND-HILL CRANE. Far in the mystery of space, Wheeling aloft with queenly grace— Around like whirl-winds booty, race,And sport on high, Hurling to earths receding faceThat dismal cry. To what far distant unknown land; What river bar, or sea-beat strand—What level plain of drifting sand, Art bound today?In lofty spirals, sweeping grand, Dost wheel your way? Far, far aloft in towering flight, Ye sport amid the sunbeams bright, Oft drifting quite beyond my sight,In mystic blue. Tis far beyond my muses might,To follow 50 Outdoor Reveries VOICE OF THE
. Out-door reveries. 48 Outdoor Reveries SAND-HILL CRANE. Far in the mystery of space, Wheeling aloft with queenly grace— Around like whirl-winds booty, race,And sport on high, Hurling to earths receding faceThat dismal cry. To what far distant unknown land; What river bar, or sea-beat strand—What level plain of drifting sand, Art bound today?In lofty spirals, sweeping grand, Dost wheel your way? Far, far aloft in towering flight, Ye sport amid the sunbeams bright, Oft drifting quite beyond my sight,In mystic blue. Tis far beyond my muses might,To follow 50 Outdoor Reveries VOICE OF THE TEAL. Alone on the river bank I stand, Neath the woodlands bending arch, My mission pursuit of water fowlAnd time the Ides of March. The snow that lay deep on the hillside,Bound down by the hand of frost, Or hurtling across the meadows,By north winds fiercely tossed; Has melted beneath the sunshine,Of south winds gentler mood, And hurried away to the riverTo swell the springtime flood. The water is murky and sullen With wash of sodden ground, Its surface all flecked with litterOf driftwood floating down. My boat in a cove is drifting, Chained fast to an old elm tree; Since the waning days of winter, Shes been waiting there for me. Outdoor Reveries 51 Now, as I kneel beside her, She, nodding, seems to greet,And bid me kindly welcome To that old familiar seat. When loosened from her tether, We drift away on the stream,The blade of the old ash paddle, In the sunlight shows a gleam. Through the lowland, damp and dismal, Where the water laps the sideOf gnar
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1900, bookdecade1920, bookpublisherkansa, bookyear1920
