And is there not some balm, I cried,
'Mid nature's boundless wealth?
"Behold"--a gentle voice replied--
"Behold the Fount of health!"

Just then a torrent met my eye,
Fresh from the rock it burst;
I could have drained the fountain dry,
So raging was my thirst.

Such deep emotions filled my soul
I woke--the vision fled:
The moonbeams through the curtain stole,
Ah! 'twas a dream, I said.

But well I know there is a land
Where flows the living stream;
And when upon its banks I stand,
Oh, then 'twill be no dream.




THE LAST SONG.


"Earth is fair, oh so fair,"--
Sang a little, happy bird;
Though a prey to grief and care,
With a smile I heard.