SONG OF THE GRANGERS'
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SONG OF THE GRANGERS'
(Written for Mountain Grange)
Away o'er the hills, or thro' valleys, Wherever I happen to be; Tis wafted along by the breezes, And comes like sweet music to me, As on, by the wayside I wander A Brother I happen to meet,—The hand-grasp is ever most cordial And this is the way that we greet,— Goin't the Grange?
I stroll mid the tall waving grasses Where the laurel and sweet brier springs- Thence on, to the deep-shadow'd woodland Where the brooklet so merrilly sings—How lulling the chirp of the cricket—How drowsy the hum of the bees.—I start.—for a voice speaking near me In deep tones utters words such as these— Goin't the Grange?
Oh! the tables so loaded with dainties We hail with the keenest delight;
