O Beautiful Kickapoo

When Heaven's creative hand was laid,

Upon those gorgeous hills

In emerald sheen and gold arrayed,

And cleft by flashing rills,

Is traced in beauty mead and dale

With charms forever new,

But left its blessing on the vale

Where flows the Kickapoo.

O favored land! No foot hath trod

Through fairer paths than thine,

Where hills uplift their crests to God,

And speak his power divine;

Where valleys breathe of peace and rest

Fresh and the morning dew,

And Vernon, on her own warm breast,

Impearls the Kickapoo.

Above me bends the clustering boughs,

The cliffs around me stand,

And heavenward rear their giant brows

In beauty calm and grand.

I linger lovingly and long

Beside these waters blue,

And yearn to give thy name to song,

O tranquil Kickapoo.

But men will come in after days

Thy wondrous charms to see,

And many an abler tongue shall praise

Thy matchless scenery-

God shield thee by his holy arms,

And every wrong subdue,

And keep thy dwellers safe from harm

O happy Kickapoo.

by Rev. Wm. Haughton

August, 1882

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