--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Spencer, Josephine collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 9 number: 10 published: 1906-08 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Josephine Spencer, "The River," *Improvement Era* 9, no. 10 (August 1906): 802.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0910unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0910unse start_page: 802 end_page: 802 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1906-08) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0910unse publication_year: 1906 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1906, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The River RIVER. {For the Improvement Era ) It lies with waving current drawn, Across the level vale, A flag of light at crimson dawn, At eve, a penant pale Floating, as old forlorn and wan, As sunset colors fail. No noisy cities breast its banks, No life their green lines show— Save where some farm or village flanks Its waters' curving bow,— And whose still-running way outranks The river's tamest flow. Its ways are through still meadows where White clover-blossoms brim Cool shallows that its waters snare; And cornfields, tall and trim, March past in columns acre-square Along its peaceful rim,— And where long plains, in amber sleep Unbroken by a dream— Save as cloud-shades across them leap With pantomimic gleam— Press close the emerald lips that keep Their smiles for the lone stream. Its music is the lark's lute-note, And insects silver string That winds a reel within its throat And makes the marshes ring; The frogs* crude trills that nearby float At eve's awakening, Yet often, on its brooding ear, A note of warning falls— The steps of cities, pressing near, Shall print its banks with walls; And for the lark's song it shall hear Thick traffic's human calls. Then, when life's tumult tracks its way, May its calm heart be thrilled By notes no harsher-keyed than gay— And its cool breast be willed To keep a meadow-dream alway, For hearts with care-dust filled! Josephine Spencer. Salt Lake City, Utah.