BAR HARBOR DOWN IN MAINE.
By Matthew McMurray.
Some poets may sing of a foreigner's soil,
But I'll speak in the praise of a neat little isle,
An isle that for grandeur cannot be surpassed,
If you search the world's map from the first to the last.
Its picturesque valleys and mountains so grand,
By the spray of the ocean continually fanned,
Its daughters renowned for their beauteous fame,
They call it "Bar Harbor away down in Maine."
When you rise in the morn the sun shines on high,
Not even a cloud mars the brilliant blue sky.
The song of the bird sounds so sweet and so clear,
You would wish that the summer would come twice each year.
And at night when the birds have all ceased their sweet song,
The old village bells chime out their ding-dong,
Which makes it a heaven where peace it does reign,
'Tis the Gem of the Ocean, "Bar Harbor in Maine."
Often I've wandered down by Eagle Lake,
And wondered why summer should ever forsake
A scene so enchanting and fair to behold,
With its clear rippling waters so pure and so cold
As it glides gently on past each shady nook,
Till it reaches that beautiful babbling Duck Brook,
'Tis there where a poet should forever remain,
And sing in the praises of "Bar Harbor in Maine."
I've climbed Green Mountain to its uttermost peak,
And stood on the summit and seen Otter Creek,
Its murmuring waters by rugged rocks spanned,
Placed there by Nature, the work of God's hand.
Each scene underneath me its beauties display,
I feel I am monarch of all I survey.
East, North, West and South is mountain and plain,
I wish I was king of "Bar Harbor in Maine."
Some people for pleasure to foreign lands rove,
But they can't find a spot to compare with Hull's Cove;
Not far from the Cove is the Ovens so fine,
Surrounded by the beautiful chestnut and pine.
They send forth a perfume so deliriously sweet,
'Twould remind you of Heaven, 'tis nature's retreat,
Its a picture of beauty in sunshine or rain,
And the Queen of the Waters is "Bar Harbor in Maine."
I've made many friends since I landed in June,
Summer has fled, we must all leave here soon.
Martin Honan, Jim Foley, Charlie Campbell, Mike Shea,
Are four jolly members with hearts light and gay.
Danny Hurley, the barber, Layden, Bill White and the
"Dor," are all cute.
But the boss of them all is the redoubtable "Tute."
I hope we'll all meet and touch glasses again,
In that Temperance Island, "Bar Harbor in Maine."
An old resident there that I cannot let slip,
A friend to all the bold Knights of the Whip,
Always good natured and never seems surly.
Long life and good health to our old friend Pat Herlihy.
Just call at his place and you'll get all you want,
Its himself has the stuff in his neat restaurant
Beer, ale, whiskey and sparkling champagne,
But you most keep it quiet at "Bar Harbor in Maine."