A POEM
To MRS. FRANKIE RICHET WALKER
Portland, Ore.
I watched the birth of each fair dawn,
The rising sun, in glorious light,
Grow into rosy morn.
(A wond'rous, beauteous sight)
All through the valley,
And o'er, the mountain heights
Dewy mists kept rising
Veiling with vapors grey,
The mighty trees, and approach of coming day.
But as the ascending sun grew stronger,
Its piercing rays cleared
Mists and clouds alike away.
And as some fairy magic wonder
Earth's loveliness revealed,
Superb, by perfect day.
Now from the woodland hills nearby
Commingling voices of the birds,
With the cuckoo's cry
Rend the air with untold melodies.
Thus all drowsy earth awakes
And lives and breathes
In silent woods, among the trees,
The rising sun, in glorious light,
Grow into rosy morn.
(A wond'rous, beauteous sight)
All through the valley,
And o'er, the mountain heights
Dewy mists kept rising
Veiling with vapors grey,
The mighty trees, and approach of coming day.
But as the ascending sun grew stronger,
Its piercing rays cleared
Mists and clouds alike away.
And as some fairy magic wonder
Earth's loveliness revealed,
Superb, by perfect day.
Now from the woodland hills nearby
Commingling voices of the birds,
With the cuckoo's cry
Rend the air with untold melodies.
Thus all drowsy earth awakes
And lives and breathes
In silent woods, among the trees,
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