Five: Over the Mason and Dixon Line
Afar, through the mellow hazes
Where the dreams of June are stayed,
The hills, in their vanishing mazes,
Carry the flush, and fade!
Southward they fall, and reach
To the bay and the ocean beach,
Where the soft, half-Syrian air
Blows from the Chesapeake’s
Inlets, coves, and creeks
On the fields of Delaware!
And the rosy lakes of flowers,
That here alone are ours,
Spread into seas that pour
Billow and spray of pink,
Even to the blue wave’s brink,
All down the Eastern Shore!
* * * * * * * *
Bayard Taylor.
FIVE: OVER THE MASON AND DIXON LINE