Classic Poem

White, blue, and green,—the whirling train
Flies through the hills, across the plain.
The varied landscape rushes by,
With wood and snow and distant sky;
And still the powers that shift the scene
Dress it in white and blue and green.

No scarlet of the tropic zone,
No purple of imperial rule;
The days of storm and blood are gone,—
This world is calm, serene, and cool.
White earth, blue sky, and spread between
Forests of living evergreen.

Ride on forever thus, in sooth,
In snow-white innocence of youth,
With heaven's own blue above the scene
Of life's eternal evergreen.