6
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
And I dwell once again in the days that are past,
Nor think, for the time, that naught earthly can last.
Dream on, faithful muse, I have long sighed in vain,—
Oh, take me back home to my Old State of Maine!
Nor think, for the time, that naught earthly can last.
Dream on, faithful muse, I have long sighed in vain,—
Oh, take me back home to my Old State of Maine!
From Katahdin's proud crest, to Atlantic's blue verge,
New lights and new scenes in succession emerge;
Silver lakes and green meads, in confusion arise
In grand panorama to gladden our eyes.
I love the old ingle, each nook, rock and knoll,
And the country's dear flag that waves over the whole:
Take me back to the home of my youth once again,
To the dear Pine Tree State,—the Old State of Maine.
New lights and new scenes in succession emerge;
Silver lakes and green meads, in confusion arise
In grand panorama to gladden our eyes.
I love the old ingle, each nook, rock and knoll,
And the country's dear flag that waves over the whole:
Take me back to the home of my youth once again,
To the dear Pine Tree State,—the Old State of Maine.
