And the mountain ivy's astral bloom
Made radiant light of the darkest gloom,
A maiden dwelt as stainless the while
As the baytree's bloom in the steep defile;
And she loved a youth with a heart as true
As ever has beaten for me or you.

Soon summer passed and the autumn came
With its goldenrod and its sumac flame,
With its tinge of frost and its blood-red blush
That made every shrub a burning bush.
Then love became passion for maiden and youth;
All vision had vanished and life was now truth;
And they heard a voice in the flaming tree
Which told them that marriage was nature's decree.

When the spring beauties came and winter had fled
Sue Winn and Josh Bell were happily wed;
And the cowslips that bloomed in the side of the glen
Were fragrant as roses in the gardens of men.
Their home was a cabin, the mountain above
Was rugged and rough, and their fortune was love:
But a cabin with love and vigor and health
Is better than sin and a palace of wealth.

The seasons passed by and a few brief years
Brought bountiful crops to these mountaineers;
And their children that played round the great hollyhocks
Wore the sunniest curls and the cleanest of frocks;
And old-fashioned sunflowers smiled at their door
Midst beautiful pinks and pansies galore;
And the mountain redbirds flashed and flew
Around the rude cabin of Josh and Sue.

Ah, little you know, ye daughters of Jove,
The sweetness of poverty wedded to love;
Untrammeled by fashion, unsated by sin,
With the feeling that life and the dewdrop are kin.
Ah, little you know who dwell among men
The freedom and freshness of mountain and glen,
Where the Diva of Nature gives her grand matinee
In the opera of Love from a rich elder spray!

Yet the earth holds few spots where the winds never blow,
And summer's not followed by the bleak winter snow:
But the harvest will fail both the rich and the poor
In the deep fertile valley, on the thin healthy moor,
Thus Susan grew ill and Joshua found
His corn crop was short, his wheat was unsound,
That drouth and disease had stricken his home
With a hand that poverty couldn't overcome.

Ah, little you care who dwell high above
For the hardships of poverty wedded to love;
Whose awful temptations you never can know,
When the unfeeling winds