Spring--and the wild March wind
The snow-covered prairies sweep;
From North Dakota's frozen clod
The fur-clad Pasque Flowers peep.
Summer--and gentle showers,
And soft the zephyrs blow;
O'er North Dakota's rolling plains
The modest Roses grow.
Autumn--and burnished skies,
And parching, sun-scorched sod;
And by the wayside still there blooms
The stately Goldenrod.
Winter--the flowers are dead
And fierce the cold winds blow;
Yet 'spite of North Dakota's snow
The flowers of Hope still grow.
THE DELUGE
(A Berthold Indian Legend)
Long ago, yes, oh, so long since,--
When the world was young and fair,
All the animals were friendly;
E'en the bison and the bear
Aided man with all their cunning,
Helped him with their counsels grave,
Helped him as the gods alone can--
Made him wise and strong and brave.
And the flowers on the prairies
Blossomed ever, shy and sweet,
For the land of the Dakotas
Knew not frost, nor killing heat.
But there lived a dread god, North Wind,
Cruel was he, with heart of stone,
Feared of all and loved by no one,
Living to himself alone
In the land of snow and blizzard,
In the land of deadening cold,
Plotting ever some new mischief,
Some new ravage, cruel and bold.
And one day this mighty North Wind
Left his throne of ice and snow,
In the cold, far distant northland
Where the wriggling ice-worms glow;
Southward came he, and the flowers
Bent their lovely heads in death,
For from out his icy nostrils
Came an all-destroying breath.--
At the mighty, stately forests
Angrily his teeth he gnashed,
With one mighty blow he felled them
And with chains the rivers lashed;
Ceased their laughter and their murmur,
Ceased their sweet life-giving flow.--
All the birds and beasts in terror
Fled, and knew not where to go;
Food they found not, and no shelter,
Dying were the mortals all,
And a slow relentless snow shroud
Draped the earth as with a pall.--
Death supreme reigned; loud the North Wind
Roared defiance to the gods!--
Birds and beasts and man in terror
Fled, and, dying, called the gods
To avenge their death and suffering,
To unite them one and all
In the holy cause of vengeance,
To secure the North Wind's fall.--
And the South Wind, fairest maiden
Of the gods, took up their cause;
Girded now herself for battle,
And after a moment's pause
Called unto her loyal brothers,
The strong East Wind, and the West,
"Help revenge the suffering mortals"--
And they granted her request.
Strong the fight raged in Dakota
'Twixt the North Wind and his foes,
Now one side yields, now the other,
Fierce and loud the tempest blows;--
Savagely the monster charges
Grappling with his unseen foes
While a wild, chaotic blizzard,
Such as ne'er was seen, arose,
Hiding all within its fury,
Made the daylight dark as night,
For the very gods were grappling
In a last terrific fight.--
Ages long the battle lasted--
Then the maiden fair and lovely,
Smiled benignant on her foe,
And his very heart was melting
(For 'twas made of ice and snow);
Loosed the rivers from their bondage,
Vanished now the shroud of snow,
And o'er North Dakota's prairies
Flowers fair began to grow;
With the advent of the flowers
Came the birds and beasts and man,
Built again their homes and wigwams--
And no more they anxious scan
The horizon for the North Wind,
Knowing that he's met his fate;
But the South Wind, fair and lovely
Rules now o'er Dakota's state.
Southward now each year the North Wind
Wends his way to see her face,
To the land of the Dakotas
Where the battle once took place;
Smiling sweet, the maiden greets him,
Warms again his chilly heart;
Satisfied, he briefly lingers--
With him, winter's cold, depart.