LAKE OF MELROSE.
IWOULD tell of a beautiful streamlet that flows
Down a moss-covered bank to the Lake of Melrose.
It gushes, and gurgles, and ripples around,
And falls o'er the rocks with a musical sound,
While the woods and the orchards with verdure are dressed,
And the feathery songster is building his nest:
There the sweet lily blooms and the violet grows,
Adorning the banks of the Lake of Melrose.
Down a moss-covered bank to the Lake of Melrose.
It gushes, and gurgles, and ripples around,
And falls o'er the rocks with a musical sound,
While the woods and the orchards with verdure are dressed,
And the feathery songster is building his nest:
There the sweet lily blooms and the violet grows,
Adorning the banks of the Lake of Melrose.
And when summer outspreads her carpet of green,
The fresh morning dew-drops bespangle the scene,
Till nursed with the moisture and warmed with the light,
There the buttercup blooms and gladdens the sight;
And, too, the sweet violet peeps from its bed;
Beside it the pink rears its sisterly head;
And over them all, while the bright water flows,
The cedar and fir shade the Lake of Melrose.
The fresh morning dew-drops bespangle the scene,
Till nursed with the moisture and warmed with the light,
There the buttercup blooms and gladdens the sight;
And, too, the sweet violet peeps from its bed;
Beside it the pink rears its sisterly head;
And over them all, while the bright water flows,
The cedar and fir shade the Lake of Melrose.
There a spell of enchantment oft brings to my view
A fair Indian maid in her birchen canoe,
A fair Indian maid in her birchen canoe,
