Hamilton Fish Armstrong, ed. The Book of New York Verse. 1917.
The Croton Ode (abridged)George P. Morris
G
Music pours a falling strain,
As the goddess of the mountain
Comes with all her sparkling train.
From her grotto-springs advancing,
Glittering in her feathery spray,
Woodland fays beside her dancing,
She pursues her winding way.
In her coral-shallop bright,
Glides the rock-king’s dove-eyed daughter,
Decked in robes of virgin white.
Nymphs and naiads, sweetly smiling,
Urge her back with pearly hand,
Merrily the sylph beguiling
From the nooks of fairy land.
As the mists of Lethé throng,
Croton’s waves in all her glory
Troop in melody along.
Ever sparkling, bright, and single,
Will this rock-ribbed stream appear,
When posterity shall mingle
Like the gathered waters here.