Standard Selections / A Collection and Adaptation of Superior Productions from Best Authors for Use in Class Room and on the Platform

by Unknown

By the reedy Lindis shore,

"Cusha! Cusha! Cusha!" calling,

Ere the early dews be falling;

I shall never hear her song,

"Cusha! Cusha!" all along

Where the sunny Lindis floweth,

Goeth, floweth;

From the meads where melick groweth,

When the water winding down,

Onward floweth to the town.