SPIRIT OF THE MOUNTAIN STREAM.

Bathe thy pale face in the flood

Which overflows this crystal fountain,

Then to rouse thy sluggish blood,

Seek its source far up the mountain.

Note thou how the stream doth sing

Its soft carol, low and light,

To the jagged rocks that fling

Mildew shadows, black and blight.

Learn a lesson from the stream,

Poet! though thy path may lie

Hid forever from the gleam

Of the blue and sunny sky,—

Though thy way be steep and long,

Sing thou still a cheerful song!