THE MOUNTAIN MAID.
55
O the Mountain Maid, New Hampshire!
For beauty and wit and will
I'll pledge her, in draughts from her crystal springs,
As rarest on plain or hill!
New York is a princess in purple
By the gems of her cities crowned;
Illinois with the garland of Ceres
Her tresses of gold has bound,
Queen of the limitless prairies
Whose great sheaves heap the ground;
For beauty and wit and will
I'll pledge her, in draughts from her crystal springs,
As rarest on plain or hill!
New York is a princess in purple
By the gems of her cities crowned;
Illinois with the garland of Ceres
Her tresses of gold has bound,
Queen of the limitless prairies
Whose great sheaves heap the ground;
And out by the broad Pacific
Their gay young sisters say,
"Ours are the mines of the Indies,
And the treasures of far Cathay;"
And the dames of the South walk proudly
Where the fig and the orange fall,
And hid in the high magnolias
The mocking thrushes call;
But the Mountain Maid, New Hampshire,
Is the rarest of them all!
Their gay young sisters say,
"Ours are the mines of the Indies,
And the treasures of far Cathay;"
And the dames of the South walk proudly
Where the fig and the orange fall,
And hid in the high magnolias
The mocking thrushes call;
But the Mountain Maid, New Hampshire,
Is the rarest of them all!
