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The adopted daughter

and other tales
  
  
  
  

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A WATER-SONG.
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150

Page 150

A WATER-SONG.

BY GEO. F. CHEVER, SALEM, MASS

Cold, crystal water to me bring,
Creation's wide and liquid wealth,
From out whose gushing fountain's spring
Eternal purity and health.
O! who can count the precious worth
Of such a boon to mortals given,—
All other drinks are brewed on earth,
But water cometh down from Heaven.
Far in the clear, cold upper air,
The Spirits of God's holy will
This calm, pure Earth-drink fit prepare,
And Heaven's unfailing fountains fill.
No soul e'er fell to it a prey,—
No palsied of the mind or limb
Can trembling point to it, and say,
“I drank my poison from its brim.”
Then crystal water to us bring,
Creation's wide and liquid wealth,
From out whose gushing fountain's spring
Eternal purity and health.