The Okanagan
By W. R. GORDON
1911

Dream of the wealth of Eden,
Wonderful land of yore,
With fruits and flowers laden
Of mystic bounteous store;

Think of the groves of Olympus,
Trod by heavenly feet.
Where, with his fairy nymphs, Zeus
Drank of the nectar sweet;

Speak of the Southern vineyards,
Groaning under the load
Of fruit for the waiting wine gourds,
Rip'ning to flow abroad;

Boast of the orange trees golden
With their luscious, yellow yield.
Of the earth's growth, new or olden,
In meadow, grove or field ;

Sweep from the North to Southland,
Seek through the East and West,
From river's source to its mouth, and
Find of the soil the best;

Gather the fruits from orchards,
Harvest the shining grain,
Pull clusters from the vineyards,
Strip Olympic groves again

And they all must bow on every hand,
As the daisy to the rose.
To the soil of the younger Western Land,
Where the Big Red Apple grows.