Leave behind the city noises,
Their numerous frauds and fakes
And hie northward to the wild wood
In the lovely Land O’ Lakes.
You can rest in shady bowers,
Beneath the silver moon
And listen to the voices
Of bullfrog and of loon,
You can walk the sandy beaches
Where the tiny wavelet breaks
And scent the wild pond lilies,
In the lovely Land O’ Lakes.
You may cross the sparkling streamlets,
’Mong springs that never fail,
Where the hodag loved to wander
Along the forest trail.
When you land a mammoth muskie,
You’ll forget your pains and aches
And bless the day you motored
To the lovely land O’ Lakes.
And as your boat is moving,
Past lily pads and grass,
’Twill be a joyous moment,
When you hook a big, black bass.
78
|
|
|
You’ll discard all deep sea fishes
All haddocks and all hacks,
When you feed on bass and muskies,
In the famous Land O’ Lakes.
Red deer will bleat around you
In the evening, calm and still
And you’ll hear the screech owl’s music,
Upon the distant hill.
You’ll hear the night wind sighing,
Among the trees and brakes,
Lulling you to peaceful slumber,
In the lovely Land O’ Lakes.
You’ll hear soft zephyrs whispering,
Among the stately pines
And tread gently over mosses,
And crawl through tangled vines.
You’ll sleep on beds of balsam boughs,
Without any fear of snakes,
In the wild and virgin forest
In the lovely Land O’ Lakes.
And when your outing’s ended
And you are homeward bound,
You’ll say that you have lately trod
On consecrated ground.
79
|
|
|
