Classic Poem

1

Northward our gallant vessel steams
Across the dark-blue ocean;
Its mighty waters lie in dreams —
We scarcely feel a motion.

Our bandsmen gay, at set of sun,
On deck appear; and then — ah —
That waltz of all the sweetest one —
The " Bosque de Viena. "

Dear strain! Oft have I danced to thee
With dark-eyed senorita,
But now thou ever bring'st to me
The memory of Anita!

2

Where stretches Andes giant chain
Beside the blue Pacific
She dwelt; would I could live again
Those hours so beatific,

That night we danced till rose the sun
'Midst crimson and sienna,
That waltz of all the sweetest one —
The " Bosque de Viena, "

When, as we heard the music start,
She said, " We soon must sever;
'Tis our last dance before we part;
Our last — perhaps forever! "

3

Dear girl, across the ocean's brine
Once more I roam, but never
Shall I forget those words of thine —
" Our last — perhaps forever? "

That morn when rose the Andes sun
'Midst crimson and sienna,
That waltz of all the sweetest one —
The " Bosque de Viena. "

Ah no, though many years or few
Shall part us, Senorita,
Those dulcet strains are sacred to
Thy memory, Anita!