From all I can gather, William Lindsay was the straightest of arrows, a saint. In an attempt to keep his experiences accessible, I'm dedicating a few years of research into William Lindsay and putting it on this blog. Please sign the guestbook. I'd love for this to be a gathering place for discussion on the man and his family.

Tuesday, January 18, 2011

The Timpanogos Valley

Of all the vales of Utah, there's one I love the best,
Watered by Timpanogos stream & near the Wasatch crest.
Though high up in the mountains, & covered oft with snow,
I love its rugged canyons & the peaceful vale below.
I love these grand old mountains, that round this valley stand,
The cold & sparkling fountains that cool the thirsty land.
The rich & fertile valley, its crops of grain & hay,
The green grass on the hillsides, in April & in May.
I came here in my boyhood, my age was then fifteen,
Like others I had crossed the plains with plodding slow ox teams.
I'd came from Bonnie Scotland, across the deep blue sea,
To gather up to Zion, the Dear land of the free.
For sixty years I've lived here, & led a happy life,
'Twas here I grew to manhood, 'twas here I won my wife.
It was here we raised our family, our Dearest girls & boys,
It was here I've made my Dearest friends & had my greatest joys.
It is here my Dear Old Mother lies, My Dearest Mary too,
Three of my ow Dear children & many friends I knew.
And when my time on earth is done, it's here I want to rest,
Beneath these grand old mountains, near those I love the best.

William Lindsay

Written January 18th, 1923

Source: Autobiography (Selections from William Lindsay's Three Books of Rhymes)

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