O wind in the pines you bring me dreams
Of the pale blue April days;
Of the shy sweet mayflower's gentle beams;
Of the cardinal flower ablaze.
Of the pale blue April days;
Of the shy sweet mayflower's gentle beams;
Of the cardinal flower ablaze.
Of asters blue and golden-rod,
And October's purple haze,
As I sit and dream of the Michigan pines
In the autumn of my days.
And October's purple haze,
As I sit and dream of the Michigan pines
In the autumn of my days.
O wind in the pines, blow on! blow on!
I love your mournful tones
As I love the sound of Michigan's waves,
Lapping over the stones.
I love your mournful tones
As I love the sound of Michigan's waves,
Lapping over the stones.
Blow on! blow on! wind in the pines!
May your murmurs never cease!
The thought of the pines in my memory shines,
Like a vision of lasting peace.
May your murmurs never cease!
The thought of the pines in my memory shines,
Like a vision of lasting peace.
MY LAKE.
When the blue of the lake meets the blue of the sky
And the white sea-gulls go whirling by,
And Michigan's waves in white foam break,
'Tis then that I love my own dear lake.
And the white sea-gulls go whirling by,
And Michigan's waves in white foam break,
'Tis then that I love my own dear lake.
When the white gulls cry, and the surf rolls high,
And thundering breaks on the rocky shore;
When foam-flakes flash, and surges crash,
I long for the lake land more and more.
And thundering breaks on the rocky shore;
When foam-flakes flash, and surges crash,
I long for the lake land more and more.
But when the sun sinks in the West,
'Tis then I love my lake the best;
For all the hues in heaven that glow,
Are mirrored in my lake below.
'Tis then I love my lake the best;
For all the hues in heaven that glow,
Are mirrored in my lake below.
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