Behold! A singing river, vast and deep,
Littered with flecks of dazzling transience,
Toward which man flocks in smothering heaps
Where battered feet encroach the ambience.
A towering mountain upon the plain
That refracts the sun's gleaming golden rays,
With majesty lost and enthrallment slain –
As man toils in want of a flinty blaze.
An enveloping sky, forever swimming
Across mines and shadows of perished dreams,
Since buried in mounds of treasures brimming
To dim tender sparks of eternal streams.
With pockets teeming man feels himself soar,
Until the song of the river is heard no more.