Kansas - A poem by Mrs G. M. Hoad

Kansas.

Sing a song for Kansas,
The noble western state;
Whose noble sons and daughters
Are toiling soon and late;
No "he-haw" quartet needed
To swell the anthem grand,
But a chorus of honest singers
To sing it o'er the land.

Bring instruments of music,
Of every style or name;
To help to swell the chorus
That tells about Kansas fame;
Sing all of her prairies broad,
Perfumed by prairie flowers,
Where my childish feet have trod
In happiness for hours.

Sing all about her stormy storms
And of her wettest wet;
And sing about her drouthy drouths
That people ne'er forget;
Sing of her strong and windy winds,
And of her dryest dry,
Of clear and bracing atmosphere,
And bluest blue of sky.

And of the winter's coldest cold
With all its snowy snow;
When skating, coasting, sliding,
And sleighing's all the go.
Sing of the summer's hottest hot
Her scenes of verdure rare,
When fields of corn and wheat and oats
Are growing everywhere.

Sing of her high and hilly hills,
Her hollow's lowest low;
Where grow the sturdiest sturdy oaks,
And happy streamlets flow:
Sing of all that Kansas docs,
In heavy crops and small,
No matter what she tries to do,
In each she beats them all.

Sing all about the meadow larks
That build amid her grasses;
Of sunsets so Italian,
Of bonnie lads and lassies.
My infant feet her prairies pressed
Among her waving corn,
And oh, I love them better
Than the land where I was born.

Sing of her mighty Congressmen,
That stand forth in the land;
In halls of learned statesmen,
With principles so grand.
And when you sing, please let the words
So plain and clearly ring,
That everyone may understand
The praises that you sing.

^__Mrs G. M. Hoad.

Poets and Poetry of Kansas
Edited by Thomas W. Herringshaw
(Chicago: American Publishers' Association. 1894)
Page 195