BY THE KANKAKEE

Beneath the forest trees I lie,

And watch the deep blue summer sky,

And count the white cranes floating by

On level wings;

And in the undergrowth I hear

A bittern softly treading near,

While through the willows, sweet and clear,

A wood-thrush sings.

And flashing, plashing, close to me,

With murmurous, melting melody,

The swirling, crystal Kankakee

Flows deep and swift

Through liquid tints and tones untold

Of topaz, turquoise, bronze and gold,

That in its lucent depths unfold

And drift, and sift,

Till down among the pearly shells

A wealth of changeful color dwells;

And like a string of silver bells

The ripples ring

Through trailing water-weeds that raise

Their tangled, yellow blossom-sprays

Where in a green and golden maze

Tall rushes swing.

And far across the glassy tide,

The marshes shimmer, low and wide,

Where birds and bees and wild things hide

In reedy grass

Whose wavering, evanescent hues

Pale, darken, change, and interfuse,

Till my enchanted senses lose

All things that pass,

And only feel an exquisite

Glad throb of light and life complete;

While like some subtile essence sweet,

The wilderness,

The perfumes warm of wave and wood

The silence of the solitude,

All merge and mingle in my mood,

Till half I guess

The secrets that the winds impart,

And draw so near to nature’ s heart

I feel her inmost pulses start;

While happily

I sink upon her fragrant breast,

Like yonder thrush within its nest,

And deep, entrancing sense of rest

Steals over me.