To the charm and felicity of her verse, as far as it goes, nothing can be added; but in the following ballad I have endeavored to give a fuller detail of the touching incident upon which it is founded.from pain and peril, by land and main,
The shipwrecked sailor came back again;
And like one from the dead, the threshold cross'd
Of his wondering home, that had mourned him lost.
Where he sat once more with his kith and kin,
And welcomed his neighbors thronging in.
But when morning came he called for his spade.
‘I must pay my debt to the Lord,’ he said.
‘Why dig you here?’ asked the passer-by;
‘Is there gold or silver the road so nigh?’
‘No, friend,’ he answered: “but under this sod
Is the blessed water, the wine of God.”
“Water! the Powow is at your back,
And right before you the Merrimac,
And look you up, or look you down,
There's a well-sweep at every door in town. “
‘True,’ he said, “we have wells of our own;
But this I dig for the Lord alone.”
Said the other: “This soil is dry, you know.
I doubt if a spring can be found below;