THE RIVER ECHO.
In the heart of green Kentucky,
With its woods and mountains blent,
Lies a cave of wondrous beauty,
Rare and most magnificent.
In its chambers cold and lofty,
Strange shapes of crystal rise,
Gem-like in their icy splendor,
Antique in their imageries.
With its woods and mountains blent,
Lies a cave of wondrous beauty,
Rare and most magnificent.
In its chambers cold and lofty,
Strange shapes of crystal rise,
Gem-like in their icy splendor,
Antique in their imageries.
Through that cavern vast and wondrous
Runs a river deep and broad,
With its ever-swelling billows,
Surging through the dim abode.
Toward the world of light they struggle
With a never-ending strife,
Like a great soul in thick darkness,
Searching for the way of life.
Runs a river deep and broad,
With its ever-swelling billows,
Surging through the dim abode.
Toward the world of light they struggle
With a never-ending strife,
Like a great soul in thick darkness,
Searching for the way of life.
And they call that river, Echo;
For a sound cast on its wave,
Quickly caught, as by enchantment,
Rebounds from cave to cave;
For a sound cast on its wave,
Quickly caught, as by enchantment,
Rebounds from cave to cave;
