The River to the Sea,
In language of the Land,
Interpreter would be
Of life beyond the strand.
Of billowy heights that never fall
When Winds have gone their way,
Of waving forests, dark and tall,
Of flocks, and herds, and fertile vales,
Of warbling birds and blossom-spray
That scents the wandering gales.
Alas! ’tis all a mystery!
She does not understand.
© John B. Tabb