Beyond
the Chagres
By
James Stanley Gilbert
Beyond the Chagres
River
Are
paths that lead to death
To
the fever's deadly breezes,
To
malaria's poisonous breath!
Beyond the tropic
foliage,
Where
the alligator waits,
And
the mansions of the Devil—
His
original estates!
Beyond the Chagres
River
Are
paths fore'er unknown,
With
a spider 'neath each pebble,
A
scorpion 'neath each stone.
'Tis
here the boa-constrictor
His
fatal banquet holds,
And
to his slimy bosom
His
hapless guest enfolds!
Beyond the Chagres
River
Lurks
the cougar in his lair,
And
ten hundred thousand dangers
Hide
in the noxious air.
Behind the trembling
leaflets,
Beneath the fallen
reeds,
Are
ever-present perils
Of a
million different breeds!
Beyond the Chagres
River
'Tis
said—the story's old—
Are
paths that lead to mountains
Of
purest virgin gold;
But
'tis my firm conviction,
Whatever tales they
tell,
That
beyond the Chagres River
All
paths lead straight to Hell!
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