THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET

Words: Samuel Woodworth, paraphrased as "The Family Bible"
Tune: Jesse, the Flower o' Dunblane, or, Araby's Daughter

 How dear to this heart are the scenes of my childhood,
  When fond recollection presents them to view!
 The orchard, the meadow, the deep-tangled wild-wood,
  And every loved spot which my infancy knew!
 The wide-spreading pond, and the mill that stood by it,
  The bridge, and the rock where the cataract fell,
 The cot of my father, the dairy-house nigh it,
  And e'en the rude bucket that hung in the well-
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
  The moss-covered bucket which hung in the well.

 That moss-covered vessel I hailed as a treasure,
  For often at noon, when returned from the field,
 I found it the source of an exquisite pleasure,
  The purest and sweetest that nature can yield.
 How ardent I seized it, with hands that were glowing,
  And quick to the white-pebbled bottom it fell;
 Then soon, with the emblem of truth overflowing,
  And dripping with coolness, it rose from the well
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
  The moss-covered bucket arose from the well.

 How sweet from the green mossy brim to receive it,
  As poised on the curb it inclined to my lips!
 Not a full blushing goblet could tempt me to leave it,
  The brightest that beauty or revelry sips.
 And now, far removed from the loved habitation,
  The tear of regret will intrusively swell,
 As fancy reverts to my father's plantation,
  And sighs for the bucket that hangs in the well
 The old oaken bucket, the iron-bound bucket,
  The moss-covered bucket that hangs in the well! 

    THE FAMILY BIBLE

Words: The Charleston Courier(?), 1818
Tune: Sacred Harp, p. 165.

 How painfully pleasing the fond recollection
  Of youthful connexions and innocent joy;
 When blest with parental advice and affection,
  Surrounded with mercies--with peace from on high
 I still view the chairs of my sire and my mother--
  The seats of their offspring, as ranged on each hand;
 And that richest of books, which excell'd every other.
  The Family Bible which lay on the stand--
 The old-fashion'd Bible, the dear blessed Bible,
  The Family Bible, which lay on the stand.

 The Bible, the volume of God's inspiration,
  At morn and at evening, could yield us delight,
 And the prayer of our sire was a sweet invocation
  For mercy by day and for safety through night.
 Our Hymn of Thanksgiving with harmony swelling,
  All warm from the hearts of a family band,
 Half rais'd us from earth to the rapturous dwelling,
  Described in the Bible that lay on the stand--
 The old-fashion'd Bible, the dear blessed Bible,
  The Family Bible which lay on the stand.

 Ye scenes of tranquility, long have we parted,
  My hope's almost gone-- and my parents no more;
 In sorrow and sadness I live broken hearted,
  And wander unknown on a far distant shore;
 Yet how can I doubt a dear Saviour's protection,
  Forgetful of gifts from His bountiful hand;
 Oh let me with patience receive his correction,
  And think on the Bible that lay on the stand
 The old-fashion'd Bible, the dear blessed Bible,
  The Family Bible that lay on the stand.