Page:Poems Merrill.djvu/137

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;