From thy Bethesda, angel-stirred and blest.
Deep in the bosom of thy mighty hills,
Dame Nature brews the elixir of life,
And pours it lavishly through riven rocks,
In basins carved by no weak, human hand;
And here and there, deep down the woodland glens
She sets her moss-rimmed chalices, where those
Who quaff with fevered lips the cooling draught,
Find health and vigor stealing through their veins.
O, queenly State! lift up thy fair, proud head,