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!