WHY should I sing of my present？ It is noth- ing to me or you,

    Rather I'd dream of Dixie and tie ships on the old bayou！ Rather I'd dream of my packets and the lazy river days, Rather I'd dream of my levee and the crimson sunset haze,

    Rather I'd dream of my triumphs, of the days that are long gone by, Rather I'd dream of flame-tipped stacks against a saffron sky, Of level lawns of topaz, of level fields of jade, Of the rambling pillared mansions that my fathers' fathers made！

    Why should I sing of my present？ It is nothing to you or me, But the river road, the great road, the high road to the sea！ Aye, that is worth the dreaming, aye, that was worth the pain. Send me back my river, and I shall wake again！