The Mountain Laurel
The Journal of Mountain Life

Visit us on FaceBookGenerations of Memories
from the
Heart of the Blue Ridge

New River

By Martin B. Keffer © 1988

Issue: May, 1988

I've seen the Hudson flow between
Its rugged mountain peaks
And watched where Delaware more calm
The lowland country seeks
And on the old historic James
I've heard the fisher scream.
I like them, but the New River
Is still my favorite stream.

'Twas at New River's singing brink
I first beheld the day,
And near its towering palisades
I used to love to play.
Its voice enchanted seemed to me;
Its roar, its splash, its hum
Will sweetly sing within my ears
Through all the days to come.

I sing unto the New River
As through resplendent scenes
It flows with happy voice for aye
By crags and rolling greens,
Or cuts its way through mountains high
Undaunted on its flow
As thwarted from a nearer sea
It to a farther goes.

New River's voice I still can hear
Sing like a rippling sea
Through Mem'ry dulled by fleeting time
To sounds less dear to me;
And on some overlooking steep
I long to sit and muse
And let New River's calming peace
My heart and mind suffuse.