Moonside Creek

Let's go down by Moonside Creek, (The crickets are achirping) Past the bayou long and deep, And there we'll pine our hearts away And dream of yesterday. Come trod the canepole trail once more, Dusty twilight evening veil, The Bream are jumping o'er the stars And splashing make no sound. Sparkling cinders from the fireside sail Up and up to twinkle briefly Against the fading blue afar As darkness claims my stay. Whispers of the evening come And leaves do rustle, mosquitoes hum, And lofty dreams arise to meet The moon, doth glow by Moonside Creek.