"Song of the Oktahutchee" by Alex Posey
The hills embrace me, loth to let me go;
The maidens think me fair to look upon,
And trees lean over, glad to hear me flow.
Thro' field and valley, green because of me,
I wander, wander to the distant sea.
Thro' lonely places and thro' crowded ways,
Thro' noise of strife and thro' the solitude,
And on thro' cloudy days and sunny days,
I journey till I meet, in sisterhood,
The broad Canadian,* red with the sunset,
Now calm, now raging in a mighty fret!
On either hand, in a grand colonnade,
The cottonwoods rise in the azure sky,
And purple mountains cast a purple shade
As I, now grave, now laughing, pass them by;
The birds of air dip bright wings in my tide,
In sunny reaches where I noiseless glide.
O'er sandy reaches with rocks and mussel-shells,
Blue over spacious beds of amber sand,
By hanging cliffs, by glens where echo dwells—
Elusive spirit of the shadow-land—
Forever blest and blessing do I go,
A-wid'ning in the morning's roseate glow.
Tho' I sing my song in a minor key,
Broad lands and fair attest the good I do;
Tho' I carry no white sails to the sea,
Towns nestle in the vales I wander thro';
And quails are whistling in the waving grain,
And herds are scattered o'er the verdant plain.
*Oktahutchee: Okta, sand: Hutchee, river. A name given the beautiful North Canadian by the Creek Indian.
tThe South Canadian.