Tescott

Somewhere out West there lies a sloping plain: That looks across the winding river track
A mile away to northward, bluish-black
With elm and cottonwood, then up again Rises to meet the distant sky. Green grain: and greener grass in spring; in fall wheat stack
And pink brown prairie grass, stock at the rack,
And marvels of sky this landscape doth contain. Here was my dear one born and passed her days,: Familiar with each bird and flower and tree,
Light-hearted, supple-thewed, a boy in ways,: Knew nature, music, books, but knew not me.
How beautiful her youth! yet I confess, The memory breeds in me strange loneliness.

^__William Herbert Carruth.