Sunset On The Willamette


3.5" x 5.5" (9 x 14 cm)
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Mt. Hood from lost lake. The sun sinks downward thru thesilver mist That looms across the valley, fold on fold, and sliding thru the fields that dawn has kissed, Willamette sweeps, a chain of liquid gold. Trails onward ever, curving as it goes. Past many a hill and many a flowered lea, Until it pauses whee Columbia flows, Deep - tongued, deep - chested to the waiting sea. O lovely vales thru which willamette slips! O vine clad hills that hear its soft voice call! My heart turns ever to their sweet, cool lips, That, passing, press each rock or grassy wall. Thru pasture lands, where mild-eyed cattle feed Thru marshy flats, where velvet tulles grow, Past many a rose tree, many a singing reed. I hear those wet lips calling, calling low. the sun sinks downward thru the trembling haze The mist flings glistening needles higher and higher. And thru the clouds - O fair beyond all praise! Mt. Hood leaps, chastened, from a sea of fire.

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