The following simple but touching ballad was composed a short time since, by a girl in Maine, about seventeen years of age, who had been suffering several years from a weakness of sight, so as to prevent her reading or writing. It was taken down, from her dictation, by a friend.
There stood a stately mansion old
On brow of sloping hill;
There many a joyous day I’ve passed,
And mem’ry loves it still.
’Twas ’neath the shade of lofty elms
And evergreen dark pine,
Where robins sing, with notes so sweet,
In spring and summer time.
There dwelt my aged ancestor,