Nature Poems:

The Music of Nature

The California Canyon

The Desert Psalm

My Wild Mountain Home

The Pali


Dear Eden of Hawaii

The Giant Pine


A Beautiful Lake


The Islands of Fiji

The Isles of Samoa

The Wanganui

Nature's Loving Mind



Lyric Poems:

Silvery Moonlight

The Mormon Maiden

I am Dreaming of You

There is a Rose Blooming for You

Smile on Me Once More

On The Shores of Old Monterey



Love and Friendship Poems:

When I Met You

When I Think of You

Flowers of Friendship

A Perfect Dream

Just to Love You

At the Bedside

Sweet Memories

A Reverie

Where the Columbia River Flows



Miscellaneous (not categorized by Edward)

Birthday Greetings

Mormon Maiden

The Glow Worm


Poems by Emogene Winterer

Easter Lilies



To Music Master Kreisler




There is many a charm in the land of Australia;

            There is beauty and joy in the Antipodes,

Where the kangaroo play over valley and landscape,

            And the music of birds is heard in the trees.


The laugh of the bird-- the gay kookeburra--         

Makes joyous the echoes of jungle and lair,

While millions of flowers are distilling their fragrances,

            And filling with sweetness the ambient air.


There in the shade of the of the tall eucalypti,

Mid the warble of birds and murmur of streams,

The gentle koala is feeding on leaf buds,

And spending his days in sleeping and dreams.


Long shall I treasure in fondest remembrance,

            The beauty of country, of flowers and trees,

And long shall I treasure the joy and the pleasure

            Of the days that I spent in the Antipodes.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


A Perfect Dream

By Edward Winterer


The sun with golden beam and jeweled light,

Has kissed the verdant hills a sweet farewell,

And wrapped the world in a purple mantle of repose.

The rising moon silvered the edge of fleecy clouds,

And no sound disturbed the coming of the night,

Save now and then the mellow note of some wakeful bird,

Which tried to signal to its loving mate

That is swung near and all was well.


The scent of myriad flowers spiced the air,

Which, with gentle touch, caressed the pendant leaves.

Thus in the stillness of the slumbering world

I pillowed my head and sought the balm of sleep.

Freed from the cares of toil and thought

I soon was wandering in the land of dreams.

In the sylvan vale of some mountain wild

Sweetened with the incense of cedar and pine

And stirred with the music of bird and brook.


Held by the charms of this enchanted land

I loitered in the shade of a towering tree,

On the fern wreathed bank of a crystal stream,

To satisfy the longings of my heart’s desire.

While wrapped in the embrace of this charming spell

A vision of beauty advanced to my view,

Between the yielding branches of a flowering shrub,

And stood in the sunlight near to me.


She was clothed in silk of pure and costly white,

Which fell in folds of exquisite grace.

A wealth of raven tresses lined her brow,

Penciled in matchless harmony of style and form.

Long lashes shadowed the luster of her soft brown eyes,

Which spoke the exalted nature of her soul.

No words can portray the beauty of her face,

No describe the angelic sweetness of her smile.


She hastened toward me with extended arms

In friendliest greeting of sweet surprise.

I grasped her hand and held them long in mine

Charmed with the tender music of her voice

As she spoke of many things I loved to hear.

Long we continued communion of heart and mind

While tarrying on the banks of the Elysian stream,

And the angels sang and heaven was nearing earth.


As the shadows were lowering in the forest glen

And the time of parting was near at hand,

She wished to tell me the secret of her heart;

And, as her breathing fanned the ardor of my lips,

She whispered to me, soft and low, “I love you.”

Thrilled with the delight of these priceless words

I awoke, - to realize, that it was all a dream,

Of a “vision of beauty”, a “perfect dream.”


At The Bedside

By Edward Winterer


My soul is burdened with sorrow,

            And my heart is heavy with care,

For the troubles which have come to me

            Are more than I can bear.


I am waiting and watching in sadness,

            As the moments come and part,

And I pray that the day is coming

            Which will take it from my heart.


And my thoughts are flying westward,

            Over desert, mountain and sea,

To the land of golden sunshine,

            And the loved ones dear to me.


Yes, my thoughts are speeding forward,

            Beyond this sorrowful night,

To a day which I hope is dawning

            With its radiant rosy light.


A Beautiful Lake

By Edward Winterer


There is a beautiful lake in the high mountain wilds

            And its story has never been told,

Its surface reflects like a mirror of glass,

            And its beaches are pebbled with gold.


Its waters excel the blue of the skies,

            And as clear as the desert air,

In its transparent depths are millions of trout

            That gleam in the sun everywhere.


It surpasses in bathing the fountain of youth,

            And its touch is so pleasing and warm

For those who disport in this beautiful lake,

            Shall ever have beauty and charm.


And there in the balm of a summer day,

            With their costumes so pretty and spare,

Are bevies of beauties all swimming around,

            Like angels afloat in the air.


Of this wonderful lake may I venture a tale,

            Though it trespass the truth and the law,

That this crystalline gem is condensed from the love

            Of a beautiful Indian squaw.


Birthday Greetings


There is a time that is endeared to our memories,

            Which has driven dull cares away.

When we were all sailing together

            On the decks of the ship Monterey.


We have sailed the waves of the Pacific

            From the shores of the U.S.A.

To the kangaroo plains of Australia,

            To the joy of each every day.


Our travels have made us all younger,

            And from troubles we all have been torn,

We are stronger, better, and fresher

            And glad that, -- some have been born.


We honor, tonight, a young lady,

            And we like her a jolly big lot,

She is passing an annual mile post,

            Best wishes to you--  Mrs. Mott


E. Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


Fellow Traveler


The California Canyon

By Edward Winterer


I love the mountain canyon, in this balmy southern clime,

            Where the flowers bloom in glory in eternal summertime;

Where I smell the wildwood blossoms which scent the morning air,

            And hear the mellow music of song birds everywhere.


Where the butterflies are flitting with their many colored wings,

            As they circle in the sunlight in iridescent rings;

Where the busy bees are humming in search of honey dew.

            Which sparkles on the lilies like jewels bright and new.


And my heart is light and joyful and the world seems sweet to me,

            As I drink the charms of Heaven beneath some shady tree.

And I loiter in the coolness where the spangled shadows fall,

            As I listen to the echoes of the laughing waters’ call.


I love the southland canyon where the fragrant zephyrs blow,

            And the wild ferns bank the alders, and the crystal waters flow;

Where the silver beams are dancing on the ripples of the stream,

            And all is sweet and charming and the place a perfect dream.


How fondly I remember a canyon which I know,

            Where I strolled in love light sunshine in the days of long ago.

And I love the sylvan shelter with its opalescent springs,

            Not only for its beauty, but the memory it brings.


You may praise the dreamy desert with its sea of silvered sand,

            You may like the mighty ocean with its breakers on the strand,

You may love the somber forest, of cedar, spruce and pine,

            But for a Paradise and Eden, the canyon, sir, is mine.


Easter Lilies


Oh Lord of Earth, from whence these Lilies came.

Cover me with Thy grace,

While I bow my head in shame,

And press their fragrance to my face.

Their crystal whiteness, laid on green,

Holds in their cups a secret clean,

Their standards, held so nobly high,

Draw from Mother Earth’s supply.

Beauty, pure as the driven snow,

From air above, from earth below,

I would not be so glad today,

Had not Easter lilies grown this way.

They were frankly made for you,

And to their pattern they are true.

If we knew as well Thy flowing life

We might reach perfection without strife.


Mother Emogene


Dear Eden of Hawaii


From the soundless depths of the ocean,

            To the dome of the azure skies,

God raised the sunless silence

            And made it a Paradise.


He jeweled the isles with coral

            And bound them with a silver sea,

He filled them with the breath of roses

            For the joy of you and me.


Home of the song loving maiden,

            Dreamland of love and romance,

You have carried my heart to rapture,

            No man can your beauty enhance.


I’m held by the spell of your mountains,

            And the charm of your sweet smiling sea,

Aloha! Fair isles of enchantment,

            Dear Eden of Hawaii.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, California


The Desert Psalm


Ten thousand feet beneath the crest,

            Of San Jacinto’s snows,

A silver stream winds through a vale

            Where the palm of the desert grows.


This vale unites the forest glades

            With the mesquite’s wind swept lines,

And blends the music of the palms

            With the chorus of the pines.


The thirsty winds sip from the leaves,

            As the roots drink from the stream;

Thus Nature’s mystic way goes on

            Like the changes of a dream.


The sunrise greets this charming vale

            With a crimson light caress,

As the palms hold high their graceful fronds

            In loving tenderness.


And when I view this wondrous theme

            From the cedar to the palm

I think I know Who wrote the words

            Of this soulful desert psalm.


By Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.



The Flowers of Friendship

By Edward Winterer


Last night in my slumbers I dreamed of the dawning,

            And myriads of flowers all sparkling with dew,

And a sweet smiling face appeared to my vision,

            For the beauty of flowers reminds me of you.


So I bring you a rose just kissed by the sunbeams,

            With its petals still fresh from the crisp morning air,

And I beg you to take it in token of friendship,

            And mingle its beauty with your brown silken hair.


We marvel the form and the color of colors,

            And love their sweet fragrance as every one knows,

But the perfume distilled from the flowers of friendship,

            Surpasses in sweetness the scent of the rose.


Let us nourish the flowers of friendship around us,

            And garland the world with their wonderful bloom,

Let us carpet the pathway of life with their petals,

            And sweeten our lives with their balmy perfume.


The Giant Pine

By Edward Winterer


As I sit in the shade of this giant pine,

            In its home near the eternal snows,

I wonder what story this tree would tell,

            Could it speak of the things that it knows.


Its branches are gnarled and twisted with age,

            And spread far from its ponderous trunk,

Which towers on high for hundreds of feet,

            From the rocks where its roots have been sunk.


And here in this far away mountain wild,

            Its evergreen crest has swung,

Through the winds and storms of unknown time,

            As the psalm of the years has been sung.


Though silent and voiceless this tree may be,

            As things in this world are defined,

Yet to me it conveys some eloquent thoughts

            Of Nature’s most wonderful mind.


The Glow Worm


In Waitomo’s sunless caves,

            In the far Antipodes,

Deep down beneath the fern clad hills,

            The flow worm lives in ease.


No daylight ever penetrates

            The Stygian darkness there,

No sound disturbs the silent night

            Save as water stirs the air.


Devoid of tools and hands and arms,

            Unschooled in arts and means,

The glow worm still illumes the saves

            With her radiant, heatless beams.


She feeds herself through silken lines,--

            Suspended from her form, --

And absorbs the insects caught thereon,

            In her lifetime as a worm.


She has turned the dark and Stygian caves,

            From the gloom of blackest night,

To a magic star bespangled world,

            A Fairy Land of Light.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.




Mar. 1927


The cocoa palms are blowing,

They take me across the sea

Where eucalyptus trees are bending

That were loved by you and me.


They bend and lean as lovers,

We watched them many a May.

Could we but stretch the distance

And join our hands today.


They bend and lean as lovers

As side by side they stand.

Could I but stretch the distance

And touch you by the hand.


Mother Emogene


I Am Dreaming Of You

By Edward Winterer


I am dreaming of you, my loved one

            As the sunlight fades in the west,

And its golden rays have vanished,

            And the world is at peace and at rest.

How tender and sweet is the remembrance,

            Of our strolls ‘neath the moonlit skies,

How my heart was filled with rapture,

            And caressed by your soulful eyes.

Dreaming of you – Only of you –

            Sweet are my slumbers,

When dreaming of you.


Many days have gone by my darling,

            Since the roses were wreathed with your smile,

But the summer of love has been constant,

            And its roses have bloomed all the while.

You have perfumed my life with gladness,

            And your love is so sweet and so true,

I am dreaming of you through the starlight,

            Yes, I am ever dreaming of you.

Dreaming of you – Ever of you –

            Sweet are my slumbers –

When dreaming of you.


The Islands of Fiji


Up from the depths of eternal night,

            To a nascent world of living light,

God raised the bed of a soundless sea

            And made the Islands of Fiji.


Where once the streams of lava flowed,

            And the crimson pools of craters glowed,

Now grow great groves of palms and trees,

            In the garden of the Tropic seas.


Where once the air was swept by gale

            And torn by bombs and pumice hail,

Now soft winds blow over sunlit seas

            With music in the fragrant breeze.


Of all fair lands beneath the skies,

            Fiji comes near to a Paradise.

I like her mountains, sea and air,

            And her maidens with their flowered hair.


By Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.



The Isles of Samoa


Over the trackless Pacific,

            In the far away Southern seas,

There are beautiful isles of contentment,

            The pearls of the Antipodes.


I sing of the isles of Samoa

            Where the billows roll and toss

Over the jeweled reefs of coral,

            In the light of the Southern Cross.


Their shores are bathes in silver,

            And wreathed with cocoa palms,

That chant the luring music

            Of Nature’s magic psalms.


In those blissful isles of Eden

            In the balmy Southern Seas,

Love lives in the heart of Nature,

            And life is a Heaven of ease.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


Just To Love You


Just to love you, that is all,

What a pleasure to recall;

Just to hear your tender voice

Makes my yearning heart rejoice;

Just to see your soulful eyes

Lifts me high into the skies.

Just to love you, -- nothing more, --

Is a treasure to adore.

But O the love of one so fair

Is bliss supreme, a jewel rare.


By Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.




Hurled from the depths of the quaking earth,

From the womb of hell that gave it birth,

A seething sea in livid ire,

Spued the land with liquid fire;

The air was filled with flame and smoke,

And rent by crash and lightning stroke,

When Pele raised her voice and spoke

                                    Through Kilauea.


Over the wastes where Terror rode,

Vast streams of red hot lava flowed,

Until the molten deluge fell

And made the sea a hissing hell.


Not yawning pits of burning fame

Mark the throats whence lava came.

And Pele’s voice has spread the name

                                    Of Kilauea.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.



Mormon Maiden


Where the sunrise greets the Rockies

            And the Jordan river flows,

Where the lilac tints the mountains,

            And the quaking aspen grows,

There my thoughts are swiftly flying,

            And my heart is borne away,

To my lovely Mormon maiden,

            Belle of Utah, Nora Leigh.


Beautilful Mormon maiden,

            Smiling so sweetly on me,

Your beauty and grace,

            And your sweet smiling face,

Make a wonderful picture to see.


When the roses blush in beauty,

            And their fragrances fills the air,

I can see your smiles entwine them,

            I can see your presence there.

Oh, your voice is liquid music,

            Like the angels love to play,

And my soul is tuned to glory,

            By the songs of Nora Leigh.


By Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


To Music Master Kreisler


O, great strong master of music,

You gave us rhythm like the singing of spheres,

Sounds of such harmony, as God might think,

Songs as from a wood filled with warblers,

Each in his own way, telling of the beauty of the forests,

And, as little brooks, warbling their songs of hope,

To join the greater sea.

All making such melody as only a master can.

Your bow, drawn over the strings,

Was as though pulled softly over silk,

And again, as though you had struck a heart string.

Its strength was as though a full forest was made

To vibrate by one great puff from God’s breath.

And our love it is was expressed by a sound

Like sudden mountain rain,

Falling on a cottage roof.


Emogene I. Winterer


The Music of Nature

By Edward Winterer


I love the voice of the gentle breeze,

As it sings its song in the leafy trees,

            By the wildwood puling springs.

And my heart is touched with the charming lines,

Played on the harp of the swing pines,

            By the evening zephyr’s wings.


How sweet the tones of the dancing brook,

As it hums its way through the shady nook,

            Where the wood dove sounds its call.

And the music of the sylvan stream

Mingles with the childhood dream,

            When the evening shadows fall.


How grand the choir of the great outdoors,

Where Nature’s music hither pours

            In volume strong and clear,

But grander still, in rhythmic bars,

Is the anthem of the singing stars,

            If your soul is turned to hear.


My Wild Mountain Home

By Edward Winterer


O take me away to my wild mountain home,

            With the incense of cedar entrancing;

Where the antelopes roam, and the rivulets foam,

            And the crystalline waters are dancing.


I am weary and sick of this commercialized life,

            With the cares of dull labor annoying;

Where contention is rife, with its bustle and strife,

            All peace and contentment destroying.


My heart is away where the moonlight sleeps,

            On the stream with its silver-laced shadows;

Where the night wind weeps and the song bird keeps

            Its home in the mountain meadows.


So bear me afar to the land of my dreams,

            With the love of my childhood awaiting;

Where the loving sunbeams kiss the beautiful streams,

            And the turtle doves coo in their mating.


Nature’s Loving Mind


Where mountains blend with open plains,

            And the rolling hills unfold,

The lupins lace the scene in blue

            And the poppies flame in gold.


The spring-time laughs on sunlit hills,

            Where the swallows dart and zoom,

And the riot of great fields of flowers,

            Makes a wilderness of bloom.


The primrose dots in white and rose

            The fields of blue and gold,

And the landscape seems a flowered robe,

            With rainbow hues unrolled.


The flowers bloom to show their love

            To others of their kind,

And the beauty of the floral world

            Speaks Nature’s loving Mind.


By Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


On the Shores of Old Monterey

By Edward Winterer


There’s a place that I love to remember,

            And it comes by my thoughts every day,

Where the cypress extends in her beauty,

            On the shores of old Monterey.

Where the sea wafts her love to the cypress,

            And the cypress waves back in reply,

And the face of the pearly green waters,

            Is caressed by the blue of the sky.


On the Shores of old Monterey

Where the breakers are dashing in play,

And Nature excels in her glory,

On the shores of old Monterey.


Oh I love the wild song of the ocean,

            With the billows bombarding the shore,

And I love the wind swept cypress,

            That sways to the white comber’s roar.

How I treasure the day in remembrance,

            When the breakers were leaping in play,

How love in her sweetness inspired me,

            On the shore of old Monterey.


On the shores of old Monterey,

Where my heart is carried away,

And my soul is attuned to Love’s music,

On the shores of old Monterey.


The Pali


From the Pali’s dream brow unfolds

            A soul-enthralling scene,

Where the trade wind’s loving breath has touched

            The landscape into green.


From distant seas the crested waves,

            With low form other lands,

Embrace in joy the palm-fringed shores,

            And kiss the coral sands.


The sunlight laughs on liquid pearl,

            Then smiles in jade and blue;

From every gentle wind that blows,

            There comes a changing hue.


Displayed beyond this mystic cliff,

            To the ocean far away,

A pictures robe of gold and green

            Is laced with silver spray.


Of all fair scenes of this wide world,

            By man eyes beheld,

The scene portrayed from Pali’s brow

            Can nowhere be excelled.


And when my soul is filled with joy,

            Of color, form and line,

I know the One who made this scène,

            Is the Architect Divine.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


(The Pali is the mountain pass on the island of Oahu about six miles from Honolulu where King Kamehameha I. Hurled his enemies over the precipitous cliff over looking the sea.)




The church of my youth, where lovers met

Is tolling its bells and calling us yet.

Its spire points upward to the sky

Perhaps to Ceres distant and high.

Where are the lovers lingering afar

Separate and lonely as most people are?

The church of my youth is calling today

Back to the ghosts where memories play.


My troth I will keep of that far distant day

The love of my youth too shy to say

That he’d love me to my dying day.

That was the spring that I went away.

(Oh, God of Earth, father us in

Wash our souls from the tarnish of sin.)


And then I turned away to pray

The tall brown youth and his bride one day

Were decked with flowers, and they went away.

And then I turned aside from prayer

The faith of my youth was unsufficed.

But I still had need to seek the Christ.

But when one serves the sick and poor

The light will enter at your door.


Oh, Church of my Youth, where lovers met,

Toll your bells and call us yet.


Emogene I. Winterer


A Reverie

By Edward Winterer


As over the hills I was strolling,

            Smiling under the sunlit skies,

I, thought of the loving luster,

            And the charm of your soulful eyes.

I plucked a rose from the wildwood, --

            Just over the summit above –

And the scent of its crimson petals,

            Breathed the fragrance of your love.


In those sylvan shadows singing,

            Swung a golden oricle,

And the spell of its luring music,

            Touched the longing of my soul,

But the voice of my charming beauty,

            Surpasses the singing bird,

Its music excels in sweetness

            The finest ever heard.


Silver Moonlight

By Edward Winterer


Silvery Moonlight, caressing the stream,

            You bring to my vision a beautiful dream

Of sailing in rapture along with the breeze

            Over still waters and under the trees.

Silvery Moonlight, enchanting the night,

            You fill me with gladness and tender delight,

And fond recollections appear to my view

            Of drifting through dreamland in my canoe.


I cherish the love-light which came to her eyes,

            When I poured out my heart, ‘neath the moonlit skies;

And I treasure the bliss of that sylvan shore,

            When her love filled my soul, I dear Eleanor.

Shine, lovely moonlight, illumine the dell,

            Bring to my sorrows the balm of your spell;

Shine on forever, keep ardent your beams,

            Bring to my slumbers the charm of sweet dreams.


Smile On Me Once More

By Edward Winterer


Smile on me once more, my colleen,

            Plant this shamrock, dear, for me,

For tonight I leave auld Ireland,

            For a land beyond the sea.

Fare thee well, my dear auld Erin,

            Fare thee well, my colleen true,

Though I cross the wild wide ocean,

            I will leave my heart with you.


To the Golden West I’m going,

            Where the fragrant orange grows,

There I’ll make a pretty cottage,

            Trellised with an Irish rose;

And then that rose is blooming sweetly,

            And this shamrock’s green and fine,

I will come for you, my colleen,

            And I’ll take your heart with mine.


Sweet Memories

By Edward Winterer


How long shall be endeared to remembrance,

            The joy of a fine summer day

When we motored along the Pacific

            Where the guns of the old fortress lay.

O the scenes were so charming and lovely,

            And changing in constant surprise,

Where the plumes of the tall eucalypti

            Laced the lines of the sunset skies.


But more precious than beauty of landscape,

            And the charm of the wild ocean shore,

Is the balm distilled from the friendship,

            Of the dear ones we love and adore,

And long shall I cherish Young Sarah,

            The darling who guides the car

And long shall I love-to Trace Helen,

            Like the light of a beautiful star.


(Written in appreciation of an auto trip in San Francisco given by Miss Sarah H. Young and Miss Helen Trace)


There Is A Rose Blooming For You

By Edward Winterer


There is a rose in my garden that’s blooming for you,

            At my home in a green sylvan dell,

And its beauty and fragrance so sweetly express

            The love which my heart cannot tell.

This rose although voiceless seems singing to me,

            In praise of your angelic worth,

But the charm of your beauty no rose can portray,

            Nor flower that can bloom here on earth.

            Blooming for you, -- Blooming for you, --

There is a rose in my garden that’s blooming for you.


There is a flower that is sweeter by far than this rose

            And it blooms ‘neath our wonderful skies,

‘Tis the rose of affection that blooms in my hart,

            And smiles in the light of your eyes.

The roses of Loveland are blooming today,

            On the banks of its beautiful streams,

            Their splendor and fragrance bring joy to my soul,

            And balm to the air of my dreams.

            Blooming for you, --  Blooming for you, --

There is a rose in my heart, dear, that’s blooming for you.


(Has been set to music copyrighted and published in the following form: See attached sheet)


The Wanganui


There is music and charm in the wild Wanganui

Descending in laughter through fern covered hills.

Its banks are a dreamland of verdure and flowers.

And the spell of its beauty the soul ever thrills.

            Wild Wanganui,

            Pride of New Zealand,

            The song of your waters,

            Sweet rapture instills.


I have drifted along its gay dancing rapids,

Mid the evergreen banks of the idyllic stream,

While the song birds were singing over bright puling ripples

And the world seemed enchanted like a beauty dream.

            Dear Wanganui

            Loved by the Maori,

            No vision of Eden

            Can excel you in theme.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.


When I Met You

By Edward Winterer


I remember the time when I met you,

            On a beautiful day in June,

When the clock in the old church tower

            Was just chiming the notes of noon.

I remember the moment with pleasure,

            And the spell of your lustrous eyes.

How my heart was filled with rapture,

            And so taken with glad surprise.


O your friendship exhales an aroma,

            Like the fragrance distilled from dew,

And your smile is a shimmer of sunshine,

            That’s endearing my heart to you.

You have come to my life like an angel,

            Like the balm of a rose in bloom,

You have filled my heart with gladness,

            And my soul with sweet perfume.


When I Think Of You

By Edward Winterer


The buttercups of Springtime,

            And violets soft and blue,

Wreathe the circle of my memory

            When I think of you.


Oh, the air is sweet with fragrance,

            While the sunbeams kiss the dew,

And my hart grows light and happy,

            When I think of you.


Yes, the world is full of sunshine,

            And Hope bids care adieu,

And life is made worth living,

            When I but think of you.


Where The Columbia River Flows


There is a portion of my country which is ever dear to me,

            Where the forest lined Columbia flows in grandeur to the sea.

Where the waters lace in silver the towering banks of green,

            And many a blushing orchard lends beauty to the scene.


And there within old Oregon where the pioneers once stood,

            Where the river rolls in music in the shadows of Mount Hood,

A city smiles in beauty through the hollyhocks and oaks,

            And life is sweet and joyful with its kind and friendly folks.


And my soul is thrilled with rapture as I view with wond’ring eyes,

            The jeweled peaks of mountains that pierce the azure skies.

And my heart is touched with romance as the gentle night wind blows

            And bears upon caressing wings the fragrance of the rose.


And dearer yet by far to me than mountains, trees, or streams,

            And dearer still than all the rest of its splendors and its dreams

Are the joys of love and friendship which time cannot dispel,

            For the balm that comes from loving hearts no fragrance can excel.


Edward Winterer

Hollywood, Calif.



By Edward Winterer


There’s a beautiful valley in the dreamy Sierras,

            Where the silvery waters spray lace o’er its walls,

Which are wreathed with the splendor and glory of rainbows,

            That span the veiled mists which rise from its falls.

                        Charming Yosemite, gem of sublimity,

You speak to my soul with a voice that enthralls.


I love your green meadows with their spangle of flowers,

            And the incense of cedar distilled in the air;

And I listed to the lilt of your life-giving river,

            So sweet in its music no song can compare.

                        Lovely Yosemite, work of Divinity,

Your beauty proclaims the Master’s great care.