SONG - WRITTEN AT THE NORTH by SAMUEL HENRY DICKSON - Poetry Explorer - Your Free Poetry Website for Classic and Contemporary Poetry

I sigh for the land of the Cypress and Pine,
Where the Jessamine blooms, and the gay Woodbine;
Where the moss droops low from the green Oak tree,
Oh! that sunbright land is the land for me.

The snowy flower of the Orange there,
Sheds its sweet fragrance through the air --
And the Indian rose delights to 'twine
Its branches with the laughing vine.

There the Humming-bird of rainbow plume,
Hangs over the scarlet creeper's bloom,
While midst the leaves his varying dies,
Sparkle like half-seen fairy eyes.

There the deer leaps light through the open glade,
Or hides him far in the forest shade,
When the woods resound in the dewy morn,
With the clang of the merry hunter's horn.

There the echoes ring through the livelong day,
With the Mockbird's changeful roundelay,
And at night when the scene is calm and still,
With the moan of the plaintive Whip-poor-Will.

Oh! I sigh for the land of the Cypress and Pine,
Of the Laurel, the Rose, and the gay Woodbine;
Where the long grey moss decks the rugged Oak tree,
That sunbright land is the land for me.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

SONG - WRITTEN AT THE NORTH by SAMUEL HENRY DICKSON

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