The Republican journal., 1912-02-29
THE SEASHORE SPRING.

1.-THE following lines may be of interest to
Tenants Harbor folks, as they describe a
spring which in former times a we'll
known feature of the beach that is now 1.-THE
GRAVEYARD" of the old schooners. Rockl; nd
ierGazette
Oh speak, my Soul.
And utter words of gratitude today
To that sweet spring which losses up its spray
Near that loved village where spent my day
Of childhood fair with schooling, work and
play,
Its crystal rill bursts forth in that domain
Where Ocean salt holds undisputed reign.
At ebbit tide it's stream runs down the shore.
At flood the bitter brine rolls deeply Ger
How many happy hour spent i near
That living spring of bubbhng waters dear!
With boyhood comrades, gone far away,
used to swim there many summer day.
just down the shore plastic clay we found
Of which modelled marbles smooth and
round.
And often drg out clans there by the score
To bait our lines for cunners off that sho e.
We watched the Workmen shape the spar close
Then launch it splashing when the tide was
high,
And float it to some schooner anchored near,
Which some mishap had met that cost her
dear.
Along that beach we skipped" fiat stones and
shells,
We sailed our boats there in the gentle swells,
We frolicked Oh the logs not far away,
Got many a ducking at our merry play;
We saw the sailors from the nearby craft
In bulging cask store up full many draft
OF that sweet springs pure liquid life so free,
For thirsty lips when far away at sea-
Now years are fed; am no more boy,
But still my heart leaps high in welcome JOY
At thought of that sweet spring. Again l
went
To visit it, while resting days | spent
Beside the sea. Not where it used to flow,
But down the strand found it yelling slow
Beneath the mourntul overhanglng bow
OF of those same ships, abandoned now,
Whose crew came oft in busy days of yore
To slake their thirst this now lonesome
shore.
TO that same spring l turn my grateful
heart;
New hope its waters brave to me impart
Flow on, brave Spring.
Oh may thy waters pure e'er upward well,
Though deep the bitter brine above thee s~ ell,
Fen though thy crystal, gushing stream
In flowing forth to meet the sunlight beam
Is roughly turned aside by stone and sand
Heaped 'gainst thee by old Oceans restless
hand,
Fen though neglected now by human kind
AT ebbing tide thy pearly waters wind
Adown the wave washed shore in trickling
bands
To meet the swallowing deep, or by the sands
To be consumed Still pour thy pure sweet
soul
Upon the seas that Ger thee ever roll.
Flow on, wise Spring!
A lesson true and good thou teachest me
In ever pouring thy sweet self upon the sea.
Oh may the current of my life be pure as
thine
AS sweet, as constant, touched with love d.
vine;
And may |. too, though oft my onward way
From night Of earth to light of heavens day
BY dross of sin be blocked and turned aside,
Like thee persistent past all barriers glide.
And as within the salty waters vast
Thy small, sweet stream seems lost, existence
past,
So may my influence good however small,
Fer into life's great swelling ocean fall.
What thought within the all-engufng
OF human passions it may seem to be
Forever lost and lite seem lived in vain
Its promise all to fail its hope to wane?
Zen though thou seemest lost, useless thing,
The is sweeter for thy life, o Spring
Though small though lost we seem, though
vain strife,
This world is sweeter for each godly life.
Live on, old town,
My childhood home; send out thy stream
OF noble youth; though lost they seem
In this worlds surging tides, thy life for
naugnt
The glory Of that shipping long since waned
In which of yore thy manhood sturdy reigned
Where'er afar thy noble youth may go
The flood OF human life will purer flow.
REV. ALLISON M. WATTS.
North Haven Me