| River, river, little river,
Bright you sparkle on your way, While the tadpoles dance and quiver And upon your bosom play. River, river, muddy river, There has been a little rain, And it makes me shake and shiver, Lest there come some more again. Little river, how you wander Over all the countryside, Filling fields and barns and houses With your creeping, lapping tide. There are turtles in the cellar, There are bullfrogs in the well, And the hickory shads are playing Over in the bosky dell. Tell me, little river, tell me Why you clamber o'er the bank, Filling all the land with dampness And a smell so loud and rank. River, river, raging river, Full of mud and drift and slime, Like the bile upon the liver During watermelon time. |
Verdigris Valley Verse
Albert Stroud
(Coffeyville, Kansas: The Journal Press. 1917)
Page 122
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