10
POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
The grand, lofty mountain where hangs the white mist
Tells the brooklets of Summer's warm glow;
And they in turn hail each glen, woodland and vale
Where the soft willow catkins bend low.
Tells the brooklets of Summer's warm glow;
And they in turn hail each glen, woodland and vale
Where the soft willow catkins bend low.
The flowerets join the harmonious strain
With the cricket, the bird and the bee;
And the rippling rill the sweet chorus will trill
On its clear winding way to the sea.
'Neath the gnarled oak tree by the silvery lake
Are the fairies all robed in white;
Awaiting their queen, for they dance at e'en
By the fireflies magical light.
With the cricket, the bird and the bee;
And the rippling rill the sweet chorus will trill
On its clear winding way to the sea.
'Neath the gnarled oak tree by the silvery lake
Are the fairies all robed in white;
Awaiting their queen, for they dance at e'en
By the fireflies magical light.
Then come to the country so grand—
O come to the old oaken tree
Where mystical notes on the gentle breeze floats
And the fays dance so gay on the lea.
O come to the old oak tree
Where the ivy so lovingly twines,
And Zephyr's warm kiss so freighted with bliss
Is perfumed by the evergreen pines.
O come to the old oaken tree
Where mystical notes on the gentle breeze floats
And the fays dance so gay on the lea.
O come to the old oak tree
Where the ivy so lovingly twines,
And Zephyr's warm kiss so freighted with bliss
Is perfumed by the evergreen pines.
