A River That Runs Down Dixie

Soft spoken the Allegheny

Mouth widens the Ohio

Glaciers silt weathered

Uprooted trees, log's swallowed,

Bankend sands are sunken

Puddled pools welcome

The pebbles that there sit

Land that drift wood's claiming

Cresting emerald sheets of sprig,

A dress that's laying down

Covering her showing parts

The river's winding down

The barns overtaken with shamrock

Nestled in their fields,

Harvest time—is living time

By the product that they yield

Wooden fences & wicker wetten'd

In the hills, a rolling fog,

it produces a morning mist

For every farm and every lawn.