Page:The Overland Monthly, Jan-June 1894.djvu/181

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1894.]
At the Falls.
117

Photo by Dobbs, New Whatcom.

AT THE FALLS.

Soft-sighing breezes, honey-scented air,
Red-breasted robins, humming birds, and peace,
Reign in this paradise. Can aught compare
With such sweet ecstasy, such gifts as these!

Ah, 'neath these leafy trees, this bower rare,
The soul stirs with the tremor of the leaves,
And while the roaring waters lull the glare
Of worldliness, Love's bosom heaves;

A gentle zephyr lifts the load of care
And wafts reflection to some distant clime,
To far-off dales where youth was wont to share
The transient pleasantries of life's springtime.

A playful trout leaps from his shady lair
And glints his jeweled fins above the pool;
Great bumble-bees, low murmuring here and there,
Lead Sleep within the pale of Nature's rule.

Deep, dreamy music, throbbing everywhere,
Each languid spirit of a dream enthralls,
And Nature smiling on a scene so fair,
Day dreamers slumber at the Whatcom Falls.