Page:The Granite Monthly Volume 6.djvu/16

From Wikisource
Jump to navigation Jump to search
This page needs to be proofread.

4 THE GRANITE MONTHLY.

in his ability and integrity, a great whether elected or defeated, he will

political party has made him its stand- stand before his fellows as a genial,

ard-bearer in a contest for the govern- kind-hearted man, a progressive and

orshipofthe state. His added honors upright citizen, and a noble specimen

are worn becomingly, and whatever of the best product of New England

may be the result of the contest, character and enterprise.

��OUR MOUNTAIN LAND— NEW HAMPSHIRE.

��BY GEORGE E. EMERY.

Oh! happiest, scene-favored, brave, mountain land. Where my heart still lingers, while wanders my hand, I could not, nor would I, dear land of my birth. Relinquish thy charms for all elsewhere on earth!

Thy wilderness glens are rich realms of delight, Where scenes most enchanting enrapture the sight, — Eai'uh giveth none fairer, wherever the zone, Than art finds existing, New Hampshire, thine own !

Thy Pemigewasset by mountain and farm Flows flashing with rapids and stretches of calm. Wild Wimripesaukee, swift, constant and free. Bears kiss of thy lake toward lips of the sea!

Bright Newichewannock. and Contoocook rare. Legion-milled Merrimack, Connecticut fair! What rivers, in flowing, all beauties combine With a golden-gleam rise more lustrous than thine !

What mountains, cloud-rending, far glorify thee. — Grim hermits, withdrawing from lure of the sea, — Monadnock, tl*e grand, and the matchless Kearsarge, AVhile high in the north boom thy largest of large !

Mount Washington, proudly there sits in repose, With sandals of forest, and chaplet of snows. Mid mountains uncounted, that, hurricane-blown. Wear mist for their garments, and all are thine own !

Bloom flowers in beauty, appearing God's smile From the joy of his thought, on wide land or isle. Yet flower-flamed splendor no fragrance distills More sweet than he pours on thy meadows and hills !

Out-ring to gray cities in far-away climes. Old bells their deep melody flowing in chimes. But bells of thy steeples. O. north-land prolong As sweetly soft echoes thy valleys among!

Free thought and free spirit ennoble thy men ! All virtues and beauty thy daughters attain ! God bless thee, New Hampshire, while centuries roll, No place is found fairer from tropic to poie !

�� �