THE MINERAL SPRING.

THE Spring which is the subject of the following little poem, though long known to people in its immediate vicinity, was not discovered to possess any medicinal properties, until the year 1807, when its efficacy was accidentally proved by some labourers who drank of it. The report of the cures it had performed in some chronic diseases, which had resisted all medical treatment, led several gentlemen of science to investigate its composi tion; when it was found to be highly charged with fixed air, and to possess some valuable chalybeate properties. Its vicinity has since become a place of much resort for valetudinarians; and, among others, the author herself proved its efficacy. It is said to exceed the waters of Ballston and Saratoga.

GENIUS of pathologic song, descend,

And smile propitious on an humble friend,
And help the trembling Muse, who strives to sing
The healing virtues of the Mineral Spring.
O Darwin,* first among the tuneful throng,
Who pour'd thy soul in philosophic song;
Whose glowing genius ever lov'd to stray,
Where bright imagination led the way;
And yet by science, cultur'd and refined,
To philosophic themes the muse confin'd;

*Doctor Erasmus Darwin, author of Zoonomia and the Botanic Garden, a name dear to science and poetry.

Whom bounteous nature chose, her works to scan,
And bade thee trace the mighty Artist's plan,
And mark, in every plant and opening flower,
Some nice gradation of creative power.

That not a leaf, that trembles in the gale,
Or spire of grass, that clothes the vernal vale,
Or opening flower that laughing summer yields,
Or herb, that wantons in the fruitful fields,
Or noisome weed, that moulders on the plain,
Or shrub, or plant, e'er vegetate in vain;
The task was thine, their various powers to scan,
Describe their structure, and unfold their plan.
Be mine to show, that not a gurgling rill,
Nor gay cascade, that tumbles down the hill,
Nor soft'ning showers, that fertilize the plain,
Nor drop of water, e'er was made in vain.

In days remote, ere luxury began

To glut the taste, and enervate the man;
Ere from the grape the sparkling juice was press'd,
Or shining goblets caught the unwary guest,
The brook pellucid every want supplied,
And thirsty shepherds blest the flowing tide;
Ere pale disease her tyranny began,
Or physic ever learnt to pamper man.

But when, by fell intemperance impell'd,
Pernicious art the fiery draught distill'd,
With chymic power phlogistic fire combin'd;
And noxious gas with the pure fluid join'd,

Disease and all the family of pain,
And death gigantic stalk'd on every plain :
Then rose physicians, with pathnomic skill,
To counteract this dreadful horde of ill;
Fair Nature's volume, page by page they sought,
To find the balm with power assuaging fraught,
With chymic process native ores refin'd,
And with due art earth's fossil stores combin'd,
Prepar'd with nicest pharmacopic skill

To saturate the drop, or form the pill.

But bounteous Nature, to complete the plan,
Devis'd in charity to erring man;
Forestall'd her sister art, and deep in earth;
Where vegetation claims her early birth,
In subterranean crevices confin'd
Unnumber'd salutary ores combin'd;

That issuing thence in many a silver spring,
Delighting health, and all its pleasures bring.

Thence Saratoga's healing water flows,
Thence rosy health in Ballston's fountain glows,
Thence Stafford's fount returning bloom can bring,
And thence, O Sutton, flows thy silver spring.
Embosom'd in a solitary grove,

Remote from scenes that mirth and frolic love;
Where pensive Dryads delight to stray,
And weeping Naiads in silver fountains play,
Forth issuing from a rock's infissur'd side,
In gentle murmurs flows the crystal tide.

Here lov'd Hygeia holds her blissful seat,
And smiles on all who seek the still retreat;
Hither the sick, the lame, the blind, repair,
And pity dwells a weeping hermit there.

O shades of Sutton, long-remember'd groves,
Where still my wandering vagrant fancy roves,
Where, with the muse, I fondly lov'd to stray,
As sober meditation led the way,

And pass'd amidst thy solitary bow'rs,
In humble

peace, my childhood's happiest hours; Tho' rivers roll, and mountains rise between, My faithful mem'ry consecrates the scene.

Twas here, when sickness wrapp'd my aching head,

When e'en gay hope's inspiring visions fled;
When pale consumption, wrapp'd in awful gloom,
My footsteps pointed to an early tomb,

I sought the Mineral Spring; it sooth'd my pain,
And renovated nature smil'd again.

Tho' length'ning time, with slow and silent tread,
Has thrown his shadowy mantle o'er my head,
Since with delight I trac'd thy rural groves,
And laurell'd stream that recollection loves;
Still in my heart the dear remembrance lives;
And still my muse each absent charm revives:
When laughing Spring delights the rural bowers,
And strews the field with aromatic flowers,
The early vi'let here its bloom renews,

And spreads its leaves to drink ambrosial dews.

When radiant summer all her sweets bestows,
The laurel blossoms here, and blooms the rose:
Sweet laurel, when thy blossoms are decay'd,
And winter beats in tempests on thy head,
Thy leaves a brighter, fairer hue display,
Green all the year, and without ceasing gay.

So stands the Christian in a storm of woes,
When griefs on griefs his pious heart o'erflows;
Brighter the evidence of grace is seen,
And piety's fair leaves assume a deeper green.

When scorching Sirius rules the burning sky,
To these cool shades Hygeia's vot'ries fly,
To quench their ardours at the crystal wave,
Or in the bath their feverish bodies lave.

With trembling step pale palsy here is seen,
The hypo-patient loiters o'er the green;
The cold rheumatic, leaning on his staff,
Limps slowly on the healthful stream to quaff,
Pale dropsy bends beneath his cumbrous load,
And panting, groaning, halts along the road,
To reach at last the health-restoring spring,
Where angel pity sits with brooding wing;
To shelter all, and grant a sweet relief,
To pining anguish and despairing grief.

'Twas here, beneath the shadow of an oak,
That spreads his giant arms across the brook,
I musing sat, and mark'd the crystal flood;
Inviting, open, free to all it stood;