Samuel Woodworth

“ D.C.
2. That moss-covered vessel I hail 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.
3. ”

“ THE OLD OAKEN BUCKET.
Samuel Woodworth. G. Kiallmark.
(Air: Araby's Daughter.)
How dear to this heart are the scenes of my child-hood, When
The or - chard, the mead - ow, the deep - tan - gled wild- wood, And
d.c. ”