Spirit of the age. [volume] (Raleigh, N.C.) 1849-1865, 1858-09-08
For the Spirit of the Age.
WATER

9 Where fountain or fresh current howd {
Against the eastern ray, translucent, pure, {
With torch ETHEREAL of heavens fiery rod,
I drank from the clear milky juice allaying
Thirst, and refreshed nor envied them the
grape, -,
Whose heads that turbulent liquor fills with
fumes.
Joy smiles and beauty plays in the fountain
of pure crystal water; health and strength
flow in the rills, and the beautiful ribands
of silver unwinding from the hills, breathes
not the mist and stencil of the %bacchanal
but the lilies Of innocence float on their
stream. Speak not of the melody of harps
Eolian signing to the air at nights still
pensive hour-of the brightness of the
stars that bold their festivals around the
midnight 2dgto uh q n%slg6 nga rffaaRfoe h soI1 ~ ii;t Us
that's grand, gloomy and peis6hstathas
purports to be the impromptu utterance of
a very eloquent Methodist preacher, Paul
Denton, who had advertised a camp-meet-
ing (bcing very difficult to collect a crowd
in the country)in Shelby county, Texas, to
commence with abdr6ecue. preparations"
concluded the advertisement, care being
made to suit all tastes; there will be a good
barbecue, better liquor, and the best of
gospel" A very large c~oncourse were
brought together bythat singular
ment, but when the feast was spread, and
a blessing had been implored by the
preacher, a desperate in the crowd cried
out-"Mr. Paul Denton, your reverence has
lied You promised us not only a good
barbecue, but better liquor. Where is the
liquor" We copy the reply:
There y answered the missionary in
deatening tones, and pointing his long bony
finger at the matchless double Spring, gush-
ing up in two strong columns, with asound
like a shout of JOY from the bosom of the
earth. "There p he repeated to his enc
my with a voice seemingly louder than ten
thousand trumpets filled with wild and de-
vastating whirlwinds, and with a look ter
rible as hell, while his enemy actually trem.
bled on his feet. There is the liquor which
God the Eternal, brewster all his children
Not IN the simmering still, over smoking
fires, choked with poisonous gases and sur.
rounded with the stencil of sickening odors
and rank corruptions, doth your Father in
Heaven prepare the precious essence oflife
the pure cold water. But in the greer
glade and CLASSY dell, where the. red dec
wanders and the child loves to play, there
God brews it, and down, low down in th,
deepest valleys where the fountains murmul
and the rills sing and high upon the tai
mountain tops where the naked granite
glittering in the sun, where the storm
cloud broods and the thunder storms crash
and away far out on the wide, wild sea
where the hurricane howls music, and th
big waves roar the chorus, /" sweeping tn
march of God"-there he brews it, tina
beverage Of life, health giving water. An
every where it is a thing of beauty, CLEAN
ing in the dew-drop; singing in the sun
mer rain /; shining in the ice-gem till tn
trees all seem turned to living Jewels
spreading a golden veil over the settin
sun, or a white gauze around the midnirh
moon I; sporting in the cataract; sleepin
In the glacier dancing in the h~ail-showel
folding its bright snow curtains softl
about the wintry world, and weavin
the many colored iris, that seraph's zon
of the sky, whose warp is the rain-dro
of earth, whose wool is the sunbea,
of heaven all checkered over with cele
tial flowers, by the mystic hand of refra
!, ton. Still always it is beautiful-th.
blessed life-WArER! No poison bubbl,
on its brink; its foam brings not NADINE
and murder 10 blood stains its liqui
! glass /; pale widows and starving orphan
|, weep not burning tearsin its clear depths i
~drunkard's shrieking ghost from the ora,
I curses 1T in words of eternal despair {! !
Speak out, my friends, would you exchan,
it for the demons drink, alcohol ~
Clay Hill, S. c. P***+**