In the Valley at Estevan Sask.

The wilds are calling me,
Calling from afar;
The sounds are following me
From the windy bar
By the silent-flowing stream,
Where new mem’ries are.

The morning is calling me,
Dreaming of the dew;
The sunlight is following me
The green woods through.
And the valley was radiant
With heaven and you.

And you are calling me
When shall I go?
By the pale glimmer of morning,
Or sunset’s full flow
Of radiancy streaming
The valley below?
RF Adams