A Dash Of Yellow Sand, Wind-Scattered And Sun-Tanned; Some Waves That Curl And Cream Along The Margin Of The Strand; And, Creeping Close To These Long Shores That Lounge At Ease, Old Erie Rocks And Ripples To A Fresh Sou'-Western Breeze. A Sky Of Blue And Grey; Some Stormy Clouds That Play At Scurrying Up With Ragged Edge, Then Laughing Blow Away, Just Leaving In Their Trail Some Snatches Of A Gale; To Whistling Summer Winds We Lift A Single Daring Sail. O! Wind So Sweet And Swift, O! Danger-Freighted Gift Bestowed On Erie With Her Waves That Foam And Fall And Lift, We Laugh In Your Wild Face, And Break Into A Race With Flying Clouds And Tossing Gulls That Weave And Interlace.