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,

Are 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!

James Stanley Gilbert