Hymns and Odes for Temperance Occasions IX

Lift up, lift up the standard,
And plant it near the well!
And, gathered underneath its folds,
A choral anthem swell!
The anthem that is set in praise
Of brooks and cisterns sing!
Give one strain to the rain,
Give another to the spring;--
Yea, give a chorus loud and long
To aqueduct and spring.


Green hills and smiling valleys!
Ye once were red with gore,
When Freedom's thunders o'er you rolled,
And broke along our shore.
The holy skies have poured their rains,
And sifted down their snows,
Till the stain of the slain,
That beneath your turf repose,
Is washed away, and the sods are clean,
Where the martyred brave repose.


Even so will ice and water
Make clean our living clay;--
Then let them grace our festive board
On Independence day;--
The day that tells us of the blood
That was, like water, poured
From their veins, on the plains
Where our fathers grasped the sword,
Where the cumbrous sheath was thrown away,
And flashed the freeman's sword.


Ye heroes of the bottle,
Who "bumper" every toast,
Who keep your wine in cobwebs wrapped,
And make its age your boast,
The oldest wine your vaults have known
From press or vat to flow,
Is new to the dew
That six thousand years ago
Came down to fill our cups, one night,
Six thousand years ago.


Ye champions of cold water,
Who quaff that drink divine,
Who 've given your rum and brandy o'er,
And bid adieu to wine,
The bottles that ye crack to-day,
By God's own hand are given;[3]
Some in earth have their birth,
And some are made in heaven;
The granite rock and spring are those,
And these the clouds of heaven.


Then, UP the Temperance standard!
And plant it by the well,
And, shaded by its waving folds,
A choral anthem swell!
The anthem that is set to chime
With babbling waters sing,
Give one strain to the rain,
Give another to the spring,
Yea, give a chorus loud and long,
To aqueduct and spring!