The Coast Range Of Alaska

The wind roars up from the angry sea With a message of warning and haste to me. It bids me go where the asters blow, And the sun-flower waves in the sunset glow. From the granite mountains the glaciers crawl, In snow-white spray the waters fall. The bay is white with the crested waves, And ever the sea wind ramps and raves.

I hate this cold, bleak northern land, I fear its snow-flecked harborless strand-- I fly to the south as a homing dove, Back to the land of corn I love. And never again shall I set my feet Where the snow and the sea and the mountains meet.