By F. M. ADLINGTON.
TUNE — Soldier's Return.
From hill and dale and fertile plain,
Where man has made his dwelling;
The friends of temperance rise again
Like some proud river swelling.
Ah, good it is to mingle here,
The cause we now are aiding,
Will wipe away the mourner's tear,
Restore the bloom that's fading.
Here friends united heart and hand,
To help the cause endeavor;
Comparing notes in wisdom plan'd,
To ply the temp'rance lever.
O, holy be that blessed hour,
When he who rules creation,
From humble means produced a power
To save this mighty nation.
No more the stubborn heart recoils,
While reason's voice is striving,
The drunkard-maker yields his spoils,
Unnumbered hearts reviving.
O, aid the cause with heart and brain,
'Till all the land's enlightened;
'Till every brow has lost its stain,
And every eye is brightened.
Then swell the anthem loud and high,
A ransom'd nation's offering;
And fill our Father's sparkling sky
With praise from all his offspring.