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POEMS BY CLARA A. MERRILL
THE BURNING OF THE TURNER MILL
Calmly dawned the Sabbath morning O'er Turner's hills and moors; And peaceful lay the village— By fair Nezinscot's shores.
Rich and abundant blessings Seemed showering o'er the land Like dews of Heaven, diffusing As by some unseen Hand.
A verdant, fertile valley That spread afar was seen; With anon interspersing The river's azure sheen.
And on the green banks, winding In gentle, graceful curve; Where rank, tenebrous foliage The feather'd nestlings serve.
Stood giant oaks primeval, Which thrust their branches wide Where dancing ripples sparkled Upon the eddying tide.
