Nature Poems:
Lyric Poems:
There is a Rose
Blooming for You
Love and Friendship Poems:
Where the Columbia
River Flows
Miscellaneous (not categorized by Edward)
Poems by Emogene Winterer
There is many a charm in the land of Australia;
There is
beauty and joy in the Antipodes,
Where the kangaroo play over valley and landscape,
And the
music of birds is heard in the trees.
The laugh of the bird-- the gay kookeburra--
Makes joyous the echoes of jungle
and lair,
While millions of flowers are distilling their fragrances,
And filling
with sweetness the ambient air.
There in the shade of the of the tall eucalypti,
Mid the warble of birds and murmur
of streams,
The gentle koala is feeding on leaf buds,
And spending his days in sleeping
and dreams.
Long shall I treasure in fondest remembrance,
The beauty
of country, of flowers and trees,
And long shall I treasure the joy and the pleasure
Of the days
that I spent in the Antipodes.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
By Edward Winterer
The sun with golden beam and jeweled light,
Has kissed the verdant hills a sweet farewell,
And wrapped the world in a purple mantle of repose.
The rising moon silvered the edge of fleecy clouds,
And no sound disturbed the coming of the night,
Save now and then the mellow note of some wakeful bird,
Which tried to signal to its loving mate
That is swung near and all was well.
The scent of myriad flowers spiced the air,
Which, with gentle touch, caressed the pendant leaves.
Thus in the stillness of the slumbering world
I pillowed my head and sought the balm of sleep.
Freed from the cares of toil and thought
I soon was wandering in the land of dreams.
In the sylvan vale of some mountain wild
Sweetened with the incense of cedar and pine
And stirred with the music of bird and brook.
Held by the charms of this enchanted land
I loitered in the shade of a towering tree,
On the fern wreathed bank of a crystal stream,
To satisfy the longings of my heart’s desire.
While wrapped in the embrace of this charming spell
A vision of beauty advanced to my view,
Between the yielding branches of a flowering shrub,
And stood in the sunlight near to me.
She was clothed in silk of pure and costly white,
Which fell in folds of exquisite grace.
A wealth of raven tresses lined her brow,
Penciled in matchless harmony of style and form.
Long lashes shadowed the luster of her soft brown eyes,
Which spoke the exalted nature of her soul.
No words can portray the beauty of her face,
No describe the angelic sweetness of her smile.
She hastened toward me with extended arms
In friendliest greeting of sweet surprise.
I grasped her hand and held them long in mine
Charmed with the tender music of her voice
As she spoke of many things I loved to hear.
Long we continued communion of heart and mind
While tarrying on the banks of the Elysian stream,
And the angels sang and heaven was nearing earth.
As the shadows were lowering in the forest glen
And the time of parting was near at hand,
She wished to tell me the secret of her heart;
And, as her breathing fanned the ardor of my lips,
She whispered to me, soft and low, “I love you.”
Thrilled with the delight of these priceless words
I awoke, - to realize, that it was all a dream,
Of a “vision of beauty”, a “perfect dream.”
By Edward Winterer
My soul is burdened with sorrow,
And my
heart is heavy with care,
For the troubles which have come to me
Are more
than I can bear.
I am waiting and watching in sadness,
As the
moments come and part,
And I pray that the day is coming
Which will
take it from my heart.
And my thoughts are flying westward,
Over
desert, mountain and sea,
To the land of golden sunshine,
And the
loved ones dear to me.
Yes, my thoughts are speeding forward,
Beyond this
sorrowful night,
To a day which I hope is dawning
With its
radiant rosy light.
By Edward Winterer
There is a beautiful lake in the high mountain wilds
And its
story has never been told,
Its surface reflects like a mirror of glass,
And its
beaches are pebbled with gold.
Its waters excel the blue of the skies,
And as
clear as the desert air,
In its transparent depths are millions of trout
That gleam
in the sun everywhere.
It surpasses in bathing the fountain of youth,
And its
touch is so pleasing and warm
For those who disport in this beautiful lake,
Shall ever
have beauty and charm.
And there in the balm of a summer day,
With their
costumes so pretty and spare,
Are bevies of beauties all swimming around,
Like angels
afloat in the air.
Of this wonderful lake may I venture a tale,
Though it
trespass the truth and the law,
That this crystalline gem is condensed from the love
Of a
beautiful Indian squaw.
Birthday
Greetings
There is a time that is endeared to our memories,
Which has
driven dull cares away.
When we were all sailing together
On the
decks of the ship Monterey.
We have sailed the waves of the Pacific
From the
shores of the U.S.A.
To the kangaroo plains of Australia,
To the joy
of each every day.
Our travels have made us all younger,
And from
troubles we all have been torn,
We are stronger, better, and fresher
And glad
that, -- some have been born.
We honor, tonight, a young lady,
And we like
her a jolly big lot,
She is passing an annual mile post,
E. Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
By Edward Winterer
I love the mountain canyon, in this balmy southern clime,
Where the
flowers bloom in glory in eternal summertime;
Where I smell the wildwood blossoms which scent the morning
air,
And hear
the mellow music of song birds everywhere.
Where the butterflies are flitting with their many colored
wings,
As they
circle in the sunlight in iridescent rings;
Where the busy bees are humming in search of honey dew.
Which sparkles
on the lilies like jewels bright and new.
And my heart is light and joyful and the world seems sweet
to me,
As I drink
the charms of Heaven beneath some shady tree.
And I loiter in the coolness where the spangled shadows
fall,
As I listen
to the echoes of the laughing waters’ call.
I love the southland canyon where the fragrant zephyrs blow,
And the
wild ferns bank the alders, and the crystal waters flow;
Where the silver beams are dancing on the ripples of the
stream,
And all is
sweet and charming and the place a perfect dream.
How fondly I remember a canyon which I know,
Where I
strolled in love light sunshine in the days of long ago.
And I love the sylvan shelter with its opalescent springs,
Not only
for its beauty, but the memory it brings.
You may praise the dreamy desert with its sea of silvered
sand,
You may
like the mighty ocean with its breakers on the strand,
You may love the somber forest, of cedar, spruce and pine,
But for a
Paradise and Eden, the canyon, sir, is mine.
Oh Lord of Earth, from whence these Lilies came.
Cover me with Thy grace,
While I bow my head in shame,
And press their fragrance to my face.
Their crystal whiteness, laid on green,
Holds in their cups a secret clean,
Their standards, held so nobly high,
Draw from Mother Earth’s supply.
Beauty, pure as the driven snow,
From air above, from earth below,
I would not be so glad today,
Had not Easter lilies grown this way.
They were frankly made for you,
And to their pattern they are true.
If we knew as well Thy flowing life
We might reach perfection without strife.
Dear Eden
of Hawaii
From the soundless depths of the ocean,
To the dome
of the azure skies,
God raised the sunless silence
And made it
a Paradise.
He jeweled the isles with coral
And bound
them with a silver sea,
He filled them with the breath of roses
For the joy
of you and me.
Home of the song loving maiden,
Dreamland
of love and romance,
You have carried my heart to rapture,
No man can
your beauty enhance.
I’m held by the spell of your mountains,
And the
charm of your sweet smiling sea,
Aloha! Fair isles of enchantment,
Dear Eden
of Hawaii.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, California
The Desert
Psalm
Ten thousand feet beneath the crest,
Of San
Jacinto’s snows,
A silver stream winds through a vale
Where the
palm of the desert grows.
This vale unites the forest glades
With the
mesquite’s wind swept lines,
And blends the music of the palms
With the
chorus of the pines.
The thirsty winds sip from the leaves,
As the
roots drink from the stream;
Thus Nature’s mystic way goes on
Like the
changes of a dream.
The sunrise greets this charming vale
With a
crimson light caress,
As the palms hold high their graceful fronds
In loving
tenderness.
And when I view this wondrous theme
From the
cedar to the palm
I think I know Who wrote the words
Of this
soulful desert psalm.
By Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
The
Flowers of Friendship
By Edward Winterer
Last night in my slumbers I dreamed of the dawning,
And myriads
of flowers all sparkling with dew,
And a sweet smiling face appeared to my vision,
For the
beauty of flowers reminds me of you.
So I bring you a rose just kissed by the sunbeams,
With its petals
still fresh from the crisp morning air,
And I beg you to take it in token of friendship,
And mingle
its beauty with your brown silken hair.
We marvel the form and the color of colors,
And love
their sweet fragrance as every one knows,
But the perfume distilled from the flowers of friendship,
Surpasses
in sweetness the scent of the rose.
Let us nourish the flowers of friendship around us,
And garland
the world with their wonderful bloom,
Let us carpet the pathway of life with their petals,
And sweeten
our lives with their balmy perfume.
The Giant
Pine
By Edward Winterer
As I sit in the shade of this giant pine,
In its home
near the eternal snows,
I wonder what story this tree would tell,
Could it
speak of the things that it knows.
Its branches are gnarled and twisted with age,
And spread
far from its ponderous trunk,
Which towers on high for hundreds of feet,
From the
rocks where its roots have been sunk.
And here in this far away mountain wild,
Its
evergreen crest has swung,
Through the winds and storms of unknown time,
As the
psalm of the years has been sung.
Though silent and voiceless this tree may be,
As things
in this world are defined,
Yet to me it conveys some eloquent thoughts
Of Nature’s
most wonderful mind.
In Waitomo’s sunless caves,
In the far
Antipodes,
Deep down beneath the fern clad hills,
The flow
worm lives in ease.
No daylight ever penetrates
The Stygian
darkness there,
No sound disturbs the silent night
Save as
water stirs the air.
Devoid of tools and hands and arms,
Unschooled
in arts and means,
The glow worm still illumes the saves
With her
radiant, heatless beams.
She feeds herself through silken lines,--
Suspended
from her form, --
And absorbs the insects caught thereon,
In her
lifetime as a worm.
She has turned the dark and Stygian caves,
From the
gloom of blackest night,
To a magic star bespangled world,
A Fairy
Land of Light.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
The cocoa palms are blowing,
They take me across the sea
Where eucalyptus trees are bending
That were loved by you and me.
They bend and lean as lovers,
We watched them many a May.
Could we but stretch the distance
And join our hands today.
They bend and lean as lovers
As side by side they stand.
Could I but stretch the distance
And touch you by the hand.
Mother Emogene
I Am
Dreaming Of You
By Edward Winterer
I am dreaming of you, my loved one
As the
sunlight fades in the west,
And its golden rays have vanished,
And the
world is at peace and at rest.
How tender and sweet is the remembrance,
Of our
strolls ‘neath the moonlit skies,
How my heart was filled with rapture,
And
caressed by your soulful eyes.
Dreaming of you – Only of you –
Sweet are
my slumbers,
When dreaming of you.
Many days have gone by my darling,
Since the
roses were wreathed with your smile,
But the summer of love has been constant,
And its
roses have bloomed all the while.
You have perfumed my life with gladness,
And your
love is so sweet and so true,
I am dreaming of you through the starlight,
Yes, I am
ever dreaming of you.
Dreaming of you – Ever of you –
Sweet are
my slumbers –
When dreaming of you.
Up from the depths of eternal night,
To a nascent
world of living light,
God raised the bed of a soundless sea
And made
the Islands of Fiji.
Where once the streams of lava flowed,
And the
crimson pools of craters glowed,
Now grow great groves of palms and trees,
In the
garden of the Tropic seas.
Where once the air was swept by gale
And torn by
bombs and pumice hail,
Now soft winds blow over sunlit seas
With music
in the fragrant breeze.
Of all fair lands beneath the skies,
Fiji comes
near to a Paradise.
I like her mountains, sea and air,
And her
maidens with their flowered hair.
By Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
Over the trackless Pacific,
In the far
away Southern seas,
There are beautiful isles of contentment,
The pearls
of the Antipodes.
I sing of the isles of Samoa
Where the
billows roll and toss
Over the jeweled reefs of coral,
In the
light of the Southern Cross.
Their shores are bathes in silver,
And
wreathed with cocoa palms,
That chant the luring music
Of Nature’s
magic psalms.
In those blissful isles of Eden
In the
balmy Southern Seas,
Love lives in the heart of Nature,
And life is
a Heaven of ease.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
Just To
Love You
Just to love you, that is all,
What a pleasure to recall;
Just to hear your tender voice
Makes my yearning heart rejoice;
Just to see your soulful eyes
Lifts me high into the skies.
Just to love you, -- nothing more, --
Is a treasure to adore.
But O the love of one so fair
Is bliss supreme, a jewel rare.
By Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
Hurled from the depths of the quaking earth,
From the womb of hell that gave it birth,
A seething sea in livid ire,
Spued the land with liquid fire;
The air was filled with flame and smoke,
And rent by crash and lightning stroke,
When Pele raised her voice and spoke
Through
Kilauea.
Over the wastes where Terror rode,
Vast streams of red hot lava flowed,
Until the molten deluge fell
And made the sea a hissing hell.
Not yawning pits of burning fame
Mark the throats whence lava came.
And Pele’s voice has spread the name
Of
Kilauea.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
Mormon
Maiden
Where the sunrise greets the Rockies
And the
Jordan river flows,
Where the lilac tints the mountains,
And the
quaking aspen grows,
There my thoughts are swiftly flying,
And my
heart is borne away,
To my lovely Mormon maiden,
Belle of
Utah, Nora Leigh.
Beautilful Mormon maiden,
Smiling so
sweetly on me,
Your beauty and grace,
And your
sweet smiling face,
Make a wonderful picture to see.
When the roses blush in beauty,
And their
fragrances fills the air,
I can see your smiles entwine them,
I can see
your presence there.
Oh, your voice is liquid music,
Like the
angels love to play,
And my soul is tuned to glory,
By the
songs of Nora Leigh.
By Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
O, great strong master of music,
You gave us rhythm like the singing of spheres,
Sounds of such harmony, as God might think,
Songs as from a wood filled with warblers,
Each in his own way, telling of the beauty of the forests,
And, as little brooks, warbling their songs of hope,
To join the greater sea.
All making such melody as only a master can.
Your bow, drawn over the strings,
Was as though pulled softly over silk,
And again, as though you had struck a heart string.
Its strength was as though a full forest was made
To vibrate by one great puff from God’s breath.
And our love it is was expressed by a sound
Like sudden mountain rain,
Falling on a cottage roof.
Emogene I. Winterer
By Edward Winterer
I love the voice of the gentle breeze,
As it sings its song in the leafy trees,
By the
wildwood puling springs.
And my heart is touched with the charming lines,
Played on the harp of the swing pines,
By the
evening zephyr’s wings.
How sweet the tones of the dancing brook,
As it hums its way through the shady nook,
Where the
wood dove sounds its call.
And the music of the sylvan stream
Mingles with the childhood dream,
When the
evening shadows fall.
How grand the choir of the great outdoors,
Where Nature’s music hither pours
In volume
strong and clear,
But grander still, in rhythmic bars,
Is the anthem of the singing stars,
If your
soul is turned to hear.
By Edward Winterer
O take me away to my wild mountain home,
With the
incense of cedar entrancing;
Where the antelopes roam, and the rivulets foam,
And the
crystalline waters are dancing.
I am weary and sick of this commercialized life,
With the
cares of dull labor annoying;
Where contention is rife, with its bustle and strife,
All peace
and contentment destroying.
My heart is away where the moonlight sleeps,
On the
stream with its silver-laced shadows;
Where the night wind weeps and the song bird keeps
Its home in
the mountain meadows.
So bear me afar to the land of my dreams,
With the
love of my childhood awaiting;
Where the loving sunbeams kiss the beautiful streams,
And the
turtle doves coo in their mating.
Where mountains blend with open plains,
And the
rolling hills unfold,
The lupins lace the scene in blue
And the
poppies flame in gold.
The spring-time laughs on sunlit hills,
Where the
swallows dart and zoom,
And the riot of great fields of flowers,
Makes a
wilderness of bloom.
The primrose dots in white and rose
The fields
of blue and gold,
And the landscape seems a flowered robe,
With
rainbow hues unrolled.
The flowers bloom to show their love
To others
of their kind,
And the beauty of the floral world
Speaks
Nature’s loving Mind.
By Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
By Edward Winterer
There’s a place that I love to remember,
And it
comes by my thoughts every day,
Where the cypress extends in her beauty,
On the
shores of old Monterey.
Where the sea wafts her love to the cypress,
And the
cypress waves back in reply,
And the face of the pearly green waters,
Is caressed
by the blue of the sky.
On the Shores of old Monterey
Where the breakers are dashing in play,
And Nature excels in her glory,
On the shores of old Monterey.
Oh I love the wild song of the ocean,
With the
billows bombarding the shore,
And I love the wind swept cypress,
That sways
to the white comber’s roar.
How I treasure the day in remembrance,
When the
breakers were leaping in play,
How love in her sweetness inspired me,
On the
shore of old Monterey.
On the shores of old Monterey,
Where my heart is carried away,
And my soul is attuned to Love’s music,
On the shores of old Monterey.
The Pali
From the Pali’s dream brow unfolds
A
soul-enthralling scene,
Where the trade wind’s loving breath has touched
The
landscape into green.
From distant seas the crested waves,
With low
form other lands,
Embrace in joy the palm-fringed shores,
And kiss
the coral sands.
The sunlight laughs on liquid pearl,
Then smiles
in jade and blue;
From every gentle wind that blows,
There comes
a changing hue.
Displayed beyond this mystic cliff,
To the
ocean far away,
A pictures robe of gold and green
Is laced
with silver spray.
Of all fair scenes of this wide world,
By man eyes
beheld,
The scene portrayed from Pali’s brow
Can nowhere
be excelled.
And when my soul is filled with joy,
Of color,
form and line,
I know the One who made this scène,
Is the
Architect Divine.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
(The Pali is the mountain pass on the island of Oahu about
six miles from Honolulu where King Kamehameha I. Hurled his enemies over the
precipitous cliff over looking the sea.)
The church of my youth, where lovers met
Is tolling its bells and calling us yet.
Its spire points upward to the sky
Perhaps to Ceres distant and high.
Where are the lovers lingering afar
Separate and lonely as most people are?
The church of my youth is calling today
Back to the ghosts where memories play.
My troth I will keep of that far distant day
The love of my youth too shy to say
That he’d love me to my dying day.
That was the spring that I went away.
(Oh, God of Earth, father us in
Wash our souls from the tarnish of sin.)
And then I turned away to pray
The tall brown youth and his bride one day
Were decked with flowers, and they went away.
And then I turned aside from prayer
The faith of my youth was unsufficed.
But I still had need to seek the Christ.
But when one serves the sick and poor
The light will enter at your door.
Oh, Church of my Youth, where lovers met,
Toll your bells and call us yet.
Emogene I. Winterer
By Edward Winterer
As over the hills I was strolling,
Smiling
under the sunlit skies,
I, thought of the loving luster,
And the
charm of your soulful eyes.
I plucked a rose from the wildwood, --
Just over
the summit above –
And the scent of its crimson petals,
Breathed
the fragrance of your love.
In those sylvan shadows singing,
Swung a
golden oricle,
And the spell of its luring music,
Touched the
longing of my soul,
But the voice of my charming beauty,
Surpasses
the singing bird,
Its music excels in sweetness
The finest
ever heard.
By Edward Winterer
Silvery Moonlight, caressing the stream,
You bring
to my vision a beautiful dream
Of sailing in rapture along with the breeze
Over still
waters and under the trees.
Silvery Moonlight, enchanting the night,
You fill me
with gladness and tender delight,
And fond recollections appear to my view
Of drifting
through dreamland in my canoe.
I cherish the love-light which came to her eyes,
When I
poured out my heart, ‘neath the moonlit skies;
And I treasure the bliss of that sylvan shore,
When her
love filled my soul, I dear Eleanor.
Shine, lovely moonlight, illumine the dell,
Bring to my
sorrows the balm of your spell;
Shine on forever, keep ardent your beams,
Bring to my
slumbers the charm of sweet dreams.
By Edward Winterer
Smile on me once more, my colleen,
Plant this
shamrock, dear, for me,
For tonight I leave auld Ireland,
For a land
beyond the sea.
Fare thee well, my dear auld Erin,
Fare thee
well, my colleen true,
Though I cross the wild wide ocean,
I will
leave my heart with you.
To the Golden West I’m going,
Where the
fragrant orange grows,
There I’ll make a pretty cottage,
Trellised
with an Irish rose;
And then that rose is blooming sweetly,
And this
shamrock’s green and fine,
I will come for you, my colleen,
And I’ll
take your heart with mine.
By Edward Winterer
How long shall be endeared to remembrance,
The joy of
a fine summer day
When we motored along the Pacific
Where the
guns of the old fortress lay.
O the scenes were so charming and lovely,
And
changing in constant surprise,
Where the plumes of the tall eucalypti
Laced the
lines of the sunset skies.
But more precious than beauty of landscape,
And the
charm of the wild ocean shore,
Is the balm distilled from the friendship,
Of the dear
ones we love and adore,
And long shall I cherish Young Sarah,
The darling
who guides the car
And long shall I love-to Trace Helen,
Like the
light of a beautiful star.
(Written in appreciation of an auto trip in San Francisco
given by Miss Sarah H. Young and Miss Helen Trace)
There Is A
Rose Blooming For You
There is a rose in my garden that’s blooming for you,
At my home
in a green sylvan dell,
The love
which my heart cannot tell.
This rose although voiceless seems singing to me,
In praise
of your angelic worth,
But the charm of your beauty no rose can portray,
Nor flower
that can bloom here on earth.
Blooming
for you, -- Blooming for you, --
There is a rose in my garden that’s blooming for you.
There is a flower that is sweeter by far than this rose
And it
blooms ‘neath our wonderful skies,
‘Tis the rose of affection that blooms in my hart,
And smiles
in the light of your eyes.
The roses of Loveland are blooming today,
On the
banks of its beautiful streams,
Their
splendor and fragrance bring joy to my soul,
And balm to
the air of my dreams.
Blooming
for you, -- Blooming for you, --
There is a rose in my heart, dear, that’s blooming for you.
(Has been set to music copyrighted and published in the
following form: See attached sheet)
There is music and charm in the wild Wanganui
Descending in laughter through fern covered hills.
Its banks are a dreamland of verdure and flowers.
And the spell of its beauty the soul ever thrills.
Wild
Wanganui,
Pride of
New Zealand,
The song of
your waters,
Sweet
rapture instills.
I have drifted along its gay dancing rapids,
Mid the evergreen banks of the idyllic stream,
While the song birds were singing over bright puling ripples
And the world seemed enchanted like a beauty dream.
Dear
Wanganui
Loved by
the Maori,
No vision
of Eden
Can excel
you in theme.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
By Edward Winterer
I remember the time when I met you,
On a
beautiful day in June,
When the clock in the old church tower
Was just
chiming the notes of noon.
I remember the moment with pleasure,
And the
spell of your lustrous eyes.
How my heart was filled with rapture,
And so
taken with glad surprise.
O your friendship exhales an aroma,
Like the
fragrance distilled from dew,
And your smile is a shimmer of sunshine,
That’s
endearing my heart to you.
You have come to my life like an angel,
Like the
balm of a rose in bloom,
You have filled my heart with gladness,
And my soul
with sweet perfume.
When I
Think Of You
By Edward Winterer
The buttercups of Springtime,
And violets
soft and blue,
Wreathe the circle of my memory
When I
think of you.
Oh, the air is sweet with fragrance,
While the
sunbeams kiss the dew,
And my hart grows light and happy,
When I
think of you.
Yes, the world is full of sunshine,
And Hope
bids care adieu,
And life is made worth living,
When I but
think of you.
Where The
Columbia River Flows
There is a portion of my country which is ever dear to me,
Where the
forest lined Columbia flows in grandeur to the sea.
Where the waters lace in silver the towering banks of green,
And many a
blushing orchard lends beauty to the scene.
And there within old Oregon where the pioneers once stood,
Where the
river rolls in music in the shadows of Mount Hood,
A city smiles in beauty through the hollyhocks and oaks,
And life is
sweet and joyful with its kind and friendly folks.
And my soul is thrilled with rapture as I view with
wond’ring eyes,
The jeweled
peaks of mountains that pierce the azure skies.
And my heart is touched with romance as the gentle night
wind blows
And bears
upon caressing wings the fragrance of the rose.
And dearer yet by far to me than mountains, trees, or
streams,
And dearer
still than all the rest of its splendors and its dreams
Are the joys of love and friendship which time cannot
dispel,
For the
balm that comes from loving hearts no fragrance can excel.
Edward Winterer
Hollywood, Calif.
There’s a beautiful valley in the dreamy Sierras,
Where the
silvery waters spray lace o’er its walls,
Which are wreathed with the splendor and glory of rainbows,
That span
the veiled mists which rise from its falls.
Charming
Yosemite, gem of sublimity,
You speak to my soul with a voice that enthralls.
I love your green meadows with their spangle of flowers,
And the
incense of cedar distilled in the air;
And I listed to the lilt of your life-giving river,
So sweet in
its music no song can compare.
Lovely
Yosemite, work of Divinity,
Your beauty proclaims the Master’s great care.