Classic Poem

From the castellate cliffs of the high Alleghenies,
Where morning a mist of enchantment distils
And the light of the evening a glorified rain is,
The lordly Potomac comes down through the hills.

A mantle of green brightly drapes his brave shoulder,
And gaily he sings as he gracefully strides
With foam-plashing footsteps from bowlder to bowlder,
Awaking the echoes of dark mountain sides.

He lingers a while in the shadows that hover
About the Blue Ridge; then with passionate start
He bounds with the blissful delight of a lover,
For something has touched the gay cavalier's heart.

A song he has heard — far away — far and low — a
Soft cadence blown up from some dim dreamy dale.
He has heard the sweet voice of the fair Shenandoah,
Who sings in Virginia's ambrosial vale.

He listens enraptured, then down through the passes
Of granite he hurries with jubilant feet,
And under red blossoms and over green grasses
He carols, the nymph of the valley to meet.

And she, Shenandoah, the blue-veined and blushing,
Instinctively feels that a lover draws near,
And, feigning to linger, goes girlishly rushing
To see him in secret where he may appear.

Now naught but a little blue mountain divides her
From him whose fast-coming she wishes afraid.
Her heart, like a virgin coquette's, gently chides her,
And soft are the sighs of the venturesome maid.

They meet in an instant, the lord and the lady,
'Tis love at first sight — each the other invites,
And rushing together where nature has made a
Cathedral of rocky and towering heights

They wed with swift kisses and rapturous glancing,
And hushed are their voices and fond their embrace
As together they go through the mountain gate dancing,
She clinging to him and he kissing her face.