West Virginia, by Louise McNeill

Where the mountain river flows
And the rhododendron grows
Is the land of all the lands
That I touch with tender hands;

Loved and treasured, earth and star,
By my father's fathers far -
Deep-earth, black earth, of-the-lime
From the ancient oceans' time.

Plow-land, fern-land, woodland shade,
Grave-land where my kin are laid,
West Virginia's hill to bless -
Leafy songs of wilderness;

Dear land, near land, here at home -
Where the rocks are honeycomb,
And the rhodedendrons . . .
Where the mountain river runs.