LITTLE RIVER ROYAL
NEW RIVER, FORT LAUDERDALE, FLA.
Snap Shot by the Author.
Close nestling on thy bosom, all dreamy and serene,
Thy charms I feel in all their flood, and never ending scheme;
Thy gifts so manifold are of fullest life and love;
Contented guests within three live as in the air above.
I hear thy praises chorused in the king-fisher’s rattle,
In giant alligator sigh, who prefers his peace to battle;
He sinks beneath thy bosom in perfect ease and calm,
And there within thy shielding heart he sings his grateful psalm
The mullet and the tarpon, the swift and tremulous trout,
Dash eagerly to mount thy wave, and lithely splash about,
To manifest their joy in thee and their abounding life,
So glad bestowed on them by thee, so free from doubtful strife.
The mocking-bird and robin both join their sweetest song
With the lowly rune of river flow, alluring, deep and long;
The eagle-hawk doth watch thee with close, unblinking eye,
And for his profit plunges swift, then soars up toward the sky.
The trim blue heron in thy waves doth lave his weary feet;
From thy cooling water takes his food and feels himself complete
And thou art ever ready to let the mallard ride,
And comfort, too, the mourning dove, who slumbers by thy side.
That charming bird, the cardinal, in his imperial red,
Himself in thee doth contemplate, and unto thee is wed.
And legion are thy lovers—a noble stream thou art!
And all the more thou givest free the richer is thy part.
The palm and the palmetto, the lily, dainty sweet,
Their homage humbly before thee bring, and lay it at thy feet;
The water oak that thirsteth, towering long-leaf pine
Drink gratefully thy water pure and sing a praise that’s thine.
Ah, way-worn mortals turn to thee to worship and abide;
The white winged boats are drawn to thee on every swelling tide;
For thru thy whole long journey it’s always give and give—
What a multitude of creatures thou dost make to live!
At last thyself thou givest wholly to out-spreading bay;
It beareth thee to shining sea—how wonderful thy way!
With parting kiss to earth, thou risest to thirsty sun,
Who praiseth thee and hasteth thee—another race to run.