GOLF COURSE & SWOPE PARK

There lies a strip of prairie still

Between the golf course and the wood,

Along the curving rim of hill,

Where tumbled rocks for ages stood,

Defying summer's sun and rain,

The winter's raging storm and frost.

Defying now the mower blades

And saving for a little while,

This fragment of our heritage,

Of beauty once stretched mile on mile,

Across the endless view of plain

And hill, but now forever lost.

by Esther O'Connor