The Mountain Spring, and Other Poems

BOSTON SHERMAN, FRENCH & COMPANY 1913
TO THE MEMORY OF HER PARENTS, WHO KEPT THEIR ALTAR FIRES BURNING, THE AUTHOR AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATES THIS LITTLE BOOK
And let him that is athirst come. And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely. —Revelation 22:17.
I wandered down a mountain road, Past flower and rock and lichen gray, Alone with nature and her God Upon a flitting summer day.
The forest skirted to the edge Of Capon river, Hampshire's gem, Which, bathing many a primrose ledge, Oft sparkled like a diadem.
At length a silvery spring I spied, Gurgling through moss and fern along, Waiting to bless with cooling tide All who were gladdened by its song.
Oh, who would pass with thirsting lip And burning brow, this limpid wave? Who would not pause with joy and sip? Its crystal depths who would not crave?
This query woke a voice within— Why slight the spring of God's great love, That fount that cleanseth from all sin, Our purchase paid by Christ above?
Whoever will may drink! Oh, why, Worn toilers in this earthly strife, Reject a mansion in the sky, Reject heaven's bliss and endless life?
Go, wander, little book, Nor let thy wand'ring cease; May all who on these pages look From sin find sweet release,
Through Christ, God's holy son, Who left his throne in heaven And e'en death's anguish did not shun That we might be forgiven.
How should our thoughts and deeds Exalt this mighty friend, Who died, yet lives and intercedes And loves us to the end!