Cincinnati's Centennial.
Out from the cycles of ages,
And one hundred golden years,
Glad peans of praise from the sages
Are filling the hemispheres;
The air is full of rejoicings,
For the city's century birth,
And a crown of glory is resting
Upon the brow of old Mother Earth,
Who has yielded her corn and vintage
Without stint; and a loving hand
That is laid with blessing upon the age
Of Ohio's fair, proud land.
Around her beautiful valleys
The majestic river flows,
That onward with laughter and sallies
Its bountiful gift bestows.
The crafts still come to us laden
With the spoils of garnered years,
As they float on her bosom that bears the trace
Of a century's hopes and fears.
All around and about us
Are marks of skillful hands;
Fair daughters and sons of Wisdom
Have competed with other lands,
And distanced them oft, in climbing
To the highest round in fame;
While memory's bells are chiming
And ringing the cherished name.
Shout aloud and rejoice;
Let Bacchus now bring
His choicest of wines to her feet,
And pouring them o'er
With uplifted voice,
The Queen City's praises repeat.
The thirst of her muses Aganippi shall quench,
As they herald the city in songs,
While Clio, proud, from her bosom will wrench
The history that to it belongs.
Laugh aloud with wild glee,
Sing, and fill up your bowl,
Let toasts to her prowess arise;
May love enter in, and so on to the goal
Of the beauty in fair woman's eyes.
Ceres and Flora, their trophies will bring
And garland the city anew,
While 'round her the glory and honor doth cling,
Cincinnati—so brave and so true.
May laces and webs, from the looms of the land
Of the Orient, whose sun gilds our own,
Be lovingly sent, and with fair, lavish hand,
About her proud shoulders be thrown.
The pearl, and the ruby, and diamond shall gleam
From the sheen of her satin-like hair.
While over all, like a fairy dream,
Shall linger the soft summer air.
Ho! Comus, make merry, and lend us your art
To gild all the joys of the hour,
Bid cankering care make haste and depart,
Ere the dew-drop shall rest on the flower.
To gentle Melpomene, a gracious adieu,
Who has guided the pen for this hour,
While with heart all intense, and smiles we renew
And welcome the century with power.
And one hundred golden years,
Glad peans of praise from the sages
Are filling the hemispheres;
The air is full of rejoicings,
For the city's century birth,
And a crown of glory is resting
Upon the brow of old Mother Earth,
Who has yielded her corn and vintage
Without stint; and a loving hand
That is laid with blessing upon the age
Of Ohio's fair, proud land.
Around her beautiful valleys
The majestic river flows,
That onward with laughter and sallies
Its bountiful gift bestows.
The crafts still come to us laden
With the spoils of garnered years,
As they float on her bosom that bears the trace
Of a century's hopes and fears.
All around and about us
Are marks of skillful hands;
Fair daughters and sons of Wisdom
Have competed with other lands,
And distanced them oft, in climbing
To the highest round in fame;
While memory's bells are chiming
And ringing the cherished name.
Shout aloud and rejoice;
Let Bacchus now bring
His choicest of wines to her feet,
And pouring them o'er
With uplifted voice,
The Queen City's praises repeat.
The thirst of her muses Aganippi shall quench,
As they herald the city in songs,
While Clio, proud, from her bosom will wrench
The history that to it belongs.
Laugh aloud with wild glee,
Sing, and fill up your bowl,
Let toasts to her prowess arise;
May love enter in, and so on to the goal
Of the beauty in fair woman's eyes.
Ceres and Flora, their trophies will bring
And garland the city anew,
While 'round her the glory and honor doth cling,
Cincinnati—so brave and so true.
May laces and webs, from the looms of the land
Of the Orient, whose sun gilds our own,
Be lovingly sent, and with fair, lavish hand,
About her proud shoulders be thrown.
The pearl, and the ruby, and diamond shall gleam
From the sheen of her satin-like hair.
While over all, like a fairy dream,
Shall linger the soft summer air.
Ho! Comus, make merry, and lend us your art
To gild all the joys of the hour,
Bid cankering care make haste and depart,
Ere the dew-drop shall rest on the flower.
To gentle Melpomene, a gracious adieu,
Who has guided the pen for this hour,
While with heart all intense, and smiles we renew
And welcome the century with power.