Poems (Schiller)/Susquehanna
SUSQUEHANNA
Thy waves are glist'ning 'neath the sun's bright rays, Thou river of my pride;And I with tenderness and admiration gaze Upon thy bosom wide.
The far-famed waters of the Juniata blue, Meet thine in fond embrace;And yonder mountain-top, now clad in summer's hue Is mirrored in thy face.
Fair river! as I stand upon thy shore, Sweet visions come to me;I dream of all the happy days of yore That I have spent near thee.
How oft in childhood I have idly played Along thy brink,And watched the lazy cattle as they strayed To lave and drink.
Each pebble from thy shore was stored away With greatest careAnd mussel shells, broken and brown with clay, Were treasures rare.
In later years, when 'neath the moon asilver sheet Thy waters lay,How oft have love-songs, low and sweet, Been borne away
On the night wind, as a light boat Sped o'er thy breast,When all was silent, save the night-bird's note Of vague unrest.
Dear River! Thou wilt ever hold a place Within my heart,For in bright visions, which old time can ne'er efface, Thou play'st a part.
No other river e'er so fair will seem To my fond eyes,Until my feet shall tread beside the stream In Paradise.June 1, 1868.