The White Wampum

by Emily Pauline Johnson


 

ERIE WATERS


 

A DASH of yellow sand,
Wind-scattered and sun-tanned;
Some waves that curl and cream along the margin of the strand;
And, creeping close to these
Long shores that lounge at ease,
5
Old Erie rocks and ripples to a fresh sou’-western breeze.

A sky of blue and gray;
Some stormy clouds that play
At scurrying up with ragged edge, then laughing blow away,
Just leaving in their trail
10
Some snatches of a gale:
To whistling summer winds we lift a single daring sail. [Page 41]

O! wind so sweet and swift,
O! danger-freighted gift
Bestowed on Erie with her waves that foam and fall and lift,
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We laugh in your wild face,
And break into a race
With flying clouds and tossing gulls that weave and interlace. [Page 42]