* * * * *
And, when the man of God
From Egypt led his flock,
They thirsted, and his rod
Smote the Arabian rock,
And forth a rill
Of water gushed,
And on they rushed,
And drank their fill.
Had Moses built a still,
And dealt out to that host
To every man his gill,
And pledged him in a toast,
Would cooler brains,
Or stronger hands,
Have braved the sands
Of those hot plains?
If Eden's strength and bloom,
Gold water thus hath given,
If e'en beyond the tomb,
It is the drink of heaven,
Are not good wells
And crystal springs
_The very things
for our Hotels?_
* * * * *
=_327._= THE PILGRIM FATHERS.
The Pilgrim Fathers,--where are they?
The waves that brought them o'er
Still roll in the bay, and throw their spray,
As they break along the shore:
Still roll in the bay, as they roll'd that day
When the Mayflower moor'd below,
When the sea around was black with storms,
And white the shore with snow.
The mists, that wrapp'd the Pilgrim's sleep,
Still brood upon the tide;
And his rocks yet keep their watch by the deep,
To stay its waves of pride.
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