Rutland weekly herald. [volume] (Rutland, Vt.) 1859-1877, 1873-07-10
Reported for the Rutland Herald
orwell Picnic Party.
JUNE 18TH.

Upon the twenty-ffth? Ifnot you surely
cannot know
The sweets of riding half day thro' dust
enough TO blind you,
And being deluged with free soil till your
mother couldn't find you.
Now sand when in It's proper place has
uses by the score
'Tis good to grow potatoes, and It's good
to scour floor;
IT'S good enough for making glass and
plaster and the rest,
But when it gets above .itsabiz 1t IL an
awful pest,
And think sometimes that people VINO
feel'pufed up and grand
Might learn little lesson from this matter
of the sand.
They need a rain of sorrow or, better,
dews of grace
To crystalize their character and make
them I'LL less space.
O, yes, we like the air to breathe, it is the
best thing out,
And with no earth to walk upon we
couldn't get about.
IT'S sure that with no earth or air there'd
be dreadful muss,
But o, from too much mixing up, kind
fate deliver usl
Excuse this slight depression, please, and
without more delay,
Wen seek the scene of action, not by that
dusty way;
Borne on the mystic wings of thought
with ease through shade or shine,
Wen go as quickly rs Il flash and i'll a
straight bee line.
And now behold the ''Picnic House" east
side of Lake Dunmore;
IT'S somewhere near the rocks, you know,
and somewhere near the shore,
And hereabouts the ardent sun descends
without remorse,
For ev'ry tree in half mile is fastened to
horse.
The wagons stand around in squads I'M
burdened of their freight,
Some brought a loving twain and some a
company of eight.
Two hundred folks from Orwell, we esti-
mate in all,
Have come to greet far Dunmore Lake
and see her waterfall.
Two hundred folks They make some
noise, for each has found tongue,
And all are gay together, though but part
are young.
Blest hour of social freedom! bright day
for friendship made
We barter nonsense, crack our jokes and
chatter undismayed
While certain Branch of our good firm
dispenses lemonade.
Shall we visit Lana water
And climb the wooded steep
To where the ferns are waving
And verdaut MOSES creep
And the falls OF Lana hide within
Reeesses cool and deep.
Now, if you are rot AbeU, pray
Don't turn, discouraged, back,
For ready to assist we find
A gentleman in black,
And several of the school-maams may
With safety take a Hack.
o bright cascade! What Offering
Can we before you lay2
What fitting tribute can we bring
Your patron nymph to-day?
We stand entranced and mute beside
Your downward-dashing way.
Faint toward the sky above us
Your pearly water CLEANS,
IT'S like a spectral cloudlet bathed
In Lana's trembling beams,
Or like the flash OF angel wings
Which sometimes haunts ouI Dreams
Down, down in haste you tumble
Through all the dizzy height,
And dash your rainbow mist about
Upon the left and Wright,
Till, in basin of the rocks,
You pause exhausted quite.
We pluck bunch of mountain flowers,
To deck cur lady's hair,
We draw deep delicious breath
OF balsam-scented air,
Then turn to trace our backward way.
For dinner claims our care.
Farewell, sweet spirit of the woodsl
May all your springs run clear,
May birds still sing ana flowers bloom
Around you half the year,
And winter weave in frost and ice
His brightest fabrics here.
feast a willing mind,
But food for our material part we quite
essential find,
And though ambrosia may sometimes do
very well for green's,
There's real solid nutrinlent in homely
pork and beans.
Come, now, sit down cpon thelbench and
take cup of tea,
Let those sip nectar who may wish, young
hyson's good 5or me.
And here ara biscuits, meat and cheese
and jelly clear as dew;
Strange that with quarts of Strawberries
the Haas should be so few
We've used up ev'ry recipe in Mrs. Wins
lows Book
Aud. though 'twould be pleasant task
we needn't kiss the Cook.
Now, singing next in order comes, and
then a kindly word
From Pastor s, and other friends, with
willing ear Is heard.
Our bellies are duly toasted, and our noun
tains bold and high,
The glorious deeds of '7G and good old
times gone by,
And so we get a foretaste of the Fourth
day of July.
Now, while the ardent day doclises, some
seek the lovely Lake,
And launch out boat where tiny waves
upon the pebbles break,
Push gaily toward The west and leave the
ShooteS far in our wake.
The water lieth dark,and cool, its surface
smooth as glass,
With some swift Cuts Of steady oar. hall
dreaming on we pass,
Or peer into the limpid depths for speckled
trout or bass.
NO finny beauty deigns to show his bright
ly Furnished coat,
But hastens to some safe retreat while we
above him float;
The cunning rascal, can he see Fisher in
our boat?
o, listen! Borne across the wave. rneIodi.
dious notes are heard,
Amelia sweetly sfngs and now a clear
voiced Martin bird.
Faint echoes answer, and we feel our in
most pulses stirred.
We take, perchancc, some brief repose al
Dunmore's famed hotel,
Orseek where Mother Storey lived, within
her rocky cell,
And did the deeds of warlike times so
bravely and so well.
And now aslant across the lake DAYS
glowing beams descend,
SO once again TO "Picnic House" our