![]() Fringing the prairie billows, fretting horizon's line, Darkly green are slumb'ring wildernesses of pine, Sleeping until the zephyrs throng To kiss their silence into song. Farther than vision ranges, farther than eagles fly, Stretches the land of beauty, arches the perfect sky, Hemm'd through the purple mists afar By peaks that gleam like star on star. Roll out, O seas! in sunlight bathed, Your plains wind-tossed, and grass enswathed. Into the rose gold westland, its yellow prairies roll, World of the bison's freedom, home of the Indian's soul.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
AuthorWrite something about yourself. No need to be fancy, just an overview. ArchivesCategories |