* * The poetry of Ruth T. Whittlesey * *

The Canon of the Grand

The waters dashed against the stones

And then they seemed to say,

As angrily they surged and foamed,

"Why are you in our way?"

The wide midstream wound in and out

Some faster than the rest,

And on the sides the white foam dashed

Against the red rocks' breast.

The giant rocks rose up above

The waters toward the sky,

And seemed to bend their heads over

The river from on high.

The fleecy clouds made caps for them,

And the blue sky between

Looked like the river upside down,

Another winding stream.

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