Swan Creek by Williston Fish Lyrics

        Stream, stream, stream,
Oh the willows by the stream;
The poplars and the willows
And the gravel all agleam!

        Oh, oh, oh,
And the mourning-doves sang "Oh!"
From their hiding in the oak tops,
Looking on the world below.

        Sky, sky, sky,
And all wide and round the sky,
With the white clouds rising, coming,
Coming, shining, drifting by.

        Home, home, home,
And beyond the wood was home,
With the old road leading ready
Where the open door said come.

        Dream, dream, dream,
Now I wake not but I dream
Of the old road and the ring-doves
And the willows by the stream.