RED-ROCK, THE MOOSE-HUNTER
Bronze in the rose-dusted twilight,
A statue of bronze, arms uplifted,
He stands ankle-deep in the lilies
As rigidly fixed and as silent
As a red granite butte on the prairie,
As still as the dusk in the foot-hills—
"Ugh! Red-Rock, big hunter-of-moose!
Red-Rock, him fool-um old bull!
Red-Rock, big moose-killer!—Ugh!"
Bronze in the tranquil sunset,
Statuesque bronze in the willows.
A statue of bronze, arms uplifted,
He stands ankle-deep in the lilies
As rigidly fixed and as silent
As a red granite butte on the prairie,
As still as the dusk in the foot-hills—
"Ugh! Red-Rock, big hunter-of-moose!
Red-Rock, him fool-um old bull!
Red-Rock, big moose-killer!—Ugh!"
Bronze in the tranquil sunset,
Statuesque bronze in the willows.
A sudden rush through the lilies;
A splashing of flashing limbs,
Shattering his mirror of silver,—
Juggling his gold-glinted rainbows,
And flinging them into the winds;
A sudden swoop through the waters,
A sudden scoop of the hands,—
And bronze in the copper twilight,
With arms uplifted he stands,
Statuesque bronze in the lilies—
"Red-Rock, big caller-of-moose!—Ugh!"
A splashing of flashing limbs,
Shattering his mirror of silver,—
Juggling his gold-glinted rainbows,
And flinging them into the winds;
A sudden swoop through the waters,
A sudden scoop of the hands,—
And bronze in the copper twilight,
With arms uplifted he stands,
Statuesque bronze in the lilies—
"Red-Rock, big caller-of-moose!—Ugh!"
Dripping, dripping, dripping
Blue-shimmering drops through his fingers;
Blue-shimmering drops through his fingers;
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