What see I yonder rise There in the northern skies, Like a tall oak? Say, are they clouds of blue That to the south pursue, Or is it smoke?

See, see how it doth fly, Soon 'twill o'er spread the sky Like a dark pall. That is no smoke, nor clouds, But grasshoppers in crowds, Down, down, they fall.

Numerous like the dust, Come the 'hoppers or locust, They fill the air. The corn that looks so green, Will soon no more be seen, All will be bare.

Then will the harvest field Naught to the farmer yield, If they abide. But on the coming day They very likely may Float with the tide.

A visit brief they made With us three days they stayed, Then went away. Onward on their courses bent, Straight to the south they went, On the third day.

Great was the damage done But helped by the shining sun, And a few rains, Plenty of corn and wheat For man and beast to eat, There still remains.

If they do not appear Upon another year Our crops to spoil, Then will the people see What splendid crops that we Raise on our soil.

For tis not alone for health But tis the place for wealth-- In the far west. Of all the countries wide Around on every side, It is the best.

Written by Charlie Pelmulder around 1873.
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Copyrighted by Lynn Waterman, 1999