James Whitcomb Riley,
The Old Swimmin'-Hole
(1883)
“ There the bullrushes growed, and the cattails so tall, And the sunshine and shadder fell over it all; And it mottled the worter with amber and gold Tel the glad lilies rocked in the ripples that rolled; And the snake-feeder's four gauzy wings fluttered by Like the ghost of a daisy dropped out of the sky, Or a wounded apple-blossom in the breeze's controle As it cut acrost some orchurd to'rds the old swimmin'-hole. Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! ”
