Poems (Bradford)/Where the manistee is flowing
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WHERE THE MANISTEE IS FLOWING.
Where the Manistee is flowing,
Gently flowing to the Lake.
Past its forests greenly growing
And its meadows fringed with brake.
There my heart is longing ever,
Ever longing there to be,
By the gently flowing river,
By the lovely Manistee.
Gently flowing to the Lake.
Past its forests greenly growing
And its meadows fringed with brake.
There my heart is longing ever,
Ever longing there to be,
By the gently flowing river,
By the lovely Manistee.
Where the Manistee goes winding
Past the hillsides fair and green,
Sure no dearer spot I'm finding,
'Tis the fairest ever seen:
For the hills are clad with forest
And the forest filled with flowers.,
And the birds are ever singing
In the leafy woodland bowers.
Past the hillsides fair and green,
Sure no dearer spot I'm finding,
'Tis the fairest ever seen:
For the hills are clad with forest
And the forest filled with flowers.,
And the birds are ever singing
In the leafy woodland bowers.
Whether in the radiant June-time
When the air is sweet with rose.
Or in the blue October
When the sumac brightly glows.
O my heart is longing ever,
Ever longing there to be.
By the gently flowing river,
By the winding Manistee.
When the air is sweet with rose.
Or in the blue October
When the sumac brightly glows.
O my heart is longing ever,
Ever longing there to be.
By the gently flowing river,
By the winding Manistee.