Randolph County Journal

For the Journal.
THE SPRING.
Respectfully Dedicated to the WINCHESTER LODGE OF I. O. G. T.

A song to the Spring, the crystal Spring,
With its water pure and bright:
As it gaily flows, trolling still as it goes
Its song of health and pure delight:
While its sparkles fling, as when Seraph's wing,
With gold and silver sheen,
All gleaming bright, in the orient light
O'er Eden's bowers was seen.

Then a song to the Spring, the crystal Spring
With its water pure and bright,
In cottage well, the flowery dell,
Or stream from the mountain's height.
From the sultry blaze of the noontide's rays,
Where the forest branches twine,
O'er the brooklet's bank, with its verdure rank,
How peaceful to recline;
While with grateful lip, from the stream we sip,
A cool refreshing draught,
We would not pine, for all the wine
Old Bacchus ever quaffed.

Then a song to the Spring, &c.

In that desert land, where but burning sand
E'er meet the strained eye's gaze,
Where the simooms blow, and their fervid glow
Seem like blast from a furnace blaze;
Oh then for the rill, not the poisonous still,
Or the red wine's maddening tide,
More rich than gold, or wealth untold,
Were one draught from the cool spring's side.

Then a song for the Spring, &c.

January 19, 1858.