Meadow and Mountain 



I sing of the mine-camp's busy flume, 



Of silver, gold, and coal, 

 Of cascades leaping in mountain gloom, 



And rivers that swirl and roll ; 

 feeing of a land where the love-lorn day 



Lingers in after-glow, 

 Where the sun's sweet light scarce fades away, 



Till winds of the morning blow. 



'AND RIVERS THAT SWIRL AND ROLL" 



