SRINGTIME sunshine in the canon
Draws from cl'ffs the poppy's gold,
Crests the rocks with purple plumage,
Where the grass can scarcely hold.
Oh, the happiness and joy
In the waters, foaming bright,
Leaping, dashing o'er the boulders
With a song of pure delight.
Misty midnight in the canon
Darkens either cliff-like wall,
Now unseen in rising skyward
When the cloud-mists softly fall.
Oh, the mystery and awe,
When the river, lost to sight,
Wildly roars or weirdly whispers
In the darkness of the night.
— M. PauHnt Scolt.
Western, Field. Western Field - Sportsmans Magazine of the West. San Francisco: Western Field, 1907.
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