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,

Old Erie rocks and ripples to a fresh sou’ - western breeze.

A sky of blue and grey;

Some stormy clouds that play

At scurrying up with ragged edge, then laughing blow away,

Just leaving in their trail

Some snatches of a gale;

To whistling summer winds we lift a single daring sail.

O! wind so sweet and swift,

O! danger-freighted gift

Bestowed on Erie with her waves that foam and fall and lift,

We laugh in your wild face,

And break into a race

With flying clouds and tossing gulls that weave and interlace.