THE BURNING OF THE TURNER MILL
81
An Angel came and bore him.
To that celestial shore
Where all from earthly trials
Shall triumph evermore.
To that celestial shore
Where all from earthly trials
Shall triumph evermore.
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Once more the scene is pleasant
O'er Turner's hills and moors;
And peaceful lies the village
By fair Nezinscot's shores.
O'er Turner's hills and moors;
And peaceful lies the village
By fair Nezinscot's shores.
Green meadows ever rolling
The pine-clad hills between
With anon interspersing
The river's azure sheen.
The pine-clad hills between
With anon interspersing
The river's azure sheen.
And on its pebbly beaches,
Where winds the glistening curve,
Still soft, pendulous verdure
The feathered nestlings serve.
Where winds the glistening curve,
Still soft, pendulous verdure
The feathered nestlings serve.
The lofty oaks primeval
Still thrust their branches wide;
Where silvery wavelets sparkle
Upon the bounding tide.
Still thrust their branches wide;
Where silvery wavelets sparkle
Upon the bounding tide.
