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| HERE, in times long gone, October bright | |
| In sombre forests set her glory-light; | |
| Where village street leads o’er the bridge’s span, | |
| Among brown hills and peaceful meadows ran | |
| The Perkiomen singing all the day. | 5 |
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| For well-tilled fields gave back an hundred fold, | |
| And well-filled barns could scarce their treasure hold. | |
| The orchards bending ’neath the weight they bore | |
| Cast down their golden fruit upon the shore | |
| Of Perkiomen singing all the day. | 10 |
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| There came a change; the leaves upon the wood | |
| Burned brighter with a color as of blood. | |
| The waving Northern Lights, the camp-fire’s glow | |
| Seemed from the heights a tinge of blood to throw | |
| On Perkiomen at the close of day. | 15 |
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| At morn a host marched proudly to the fight, | |
| And some returned their camp-fires to relight, | |
| And some to hear awhile the waters flow, | |
| Then ears grew dull in coming death, and low | |
| The Perkiomen sang on that dread day. | 20 |
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| And prayers in many distant homes were said | |
| By hearts that ne’er again were comforted, | |
| While here the soldier saw in dreams again | |
| Home scenes made vivid by the sad refrain | |
| Of Perkiomen singing all the day. | 25 |
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| Yet mid the gloom and doubt the living learned | |
| How still defeat to victory might be turned, | |
| Until the cannon thundered from the hill | |
| A conquest’s tale, and glad below the mill | |
| The Perkiomen sang on that great day. | 30 |
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| But nature soon forgets: that camp is lost, | |
| She hides the graves of all that arméd host; | |
| On the same site now stands another mill, | |
| Another miller leans on the white sill | |
| To hear the Perkiomen sing to-day. | 35 |
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| Let not our hearts forget. Lo! Time makes plain | |
| How from the sacrifice has grown our gain; | |
| Here orchards bloom; each year its harvest brings, | |
| And clearer still of peace and plenty sings | |
| The Perkiomen all the autumn day. | 40 |
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