Songs of the Present Time
Melodies of Beauty, Words of Sense,
Ideas of Progress
by
J. P. Webster
First Series
[1]  All Rights for All.  Song and Chorus
[2]  The Cottage in the Wood.  Song and Chorus
[3]  Bessie Jayne.  Song and Chorus
[4]  The Past We Can Never Recall.  Song and Chorus
[5]  Cupid and Mammon.  Duet
[6]  Lost Lomie Laine.  Song and Chorus
[7]  The Spring at the Foot of the Hill.  Song and Chorus
[8]  Northmen, Awake.  Quartet and Chorus
[9]  Woman Is Going to Vote.  Song and Chorus

"The Spring at the Foot of the Hill" (1868)
Words by Luke Collin
Music by J[oseph]. P[hilbrick]. Webster [1819-1875]

Chicago: Root & Cady, 67 Washington Street, Chicago, IL
Plate No. 799 6
[Source: am1275@Mills]

1. Far back in the sweet depths of childhood,
  Are scenes that are dear to me yet;
How I rambled through meadow and wildwood,
  Is something I ne’er can forget.
The little log house in the clearing,
  John Patterson’s swift humming mill,
And the spot of all others the dear est,—
  The spring at the foot of the hill.
    And the spot of all others the dear est,—
      The spring at the foot of the hill.

CHORUS [sung after each VERSE]
I turn from the present and future,
  While thoughts of the long ago fill
My heart with the olden time rapture,
  For the spring at the foot of the hill.
    My heart with the olden time rapture,
      For the spring at the foot of the hill.

2. How oft in the days that are ranished,
  When neighbors were scattered and few,
I’ve lain ’neath the green willow branches,
  Quite hidden from all human view.
The branches whichever were healing
  Soft time to the song of the rill,
Which danced to its own joyful music,
  From the spring at the foot of the hill.
    Which danced to its own joyful music,
      From the spring at the foot of the hill.

3. And there in the long days of summer,
  When earth was all parchéd with heat,
My hot thirst was quenched at the fountain,
  Whose waters were cooling and sweet.
And wafarers weary and dusty,
  Beheld with a heartglowing thrill,
That oasis under the willow,—
  The spring at the foot of the hill.
    That oasis under the willow,—
      The spring at the foot of the hill.

4. Long years have passed over my pathway,
  And many strange lands have I seen,
Kind friends have been loving and faithful,
  Whereever my wand’rings have been.
But whatever scenes may have charmed me,
  The greenest in memory still,
Is that where I loitered in childhood,—
  The spring at the foot of the hill.
    Is that where I loitered in childhood,—
      The spring at the foot of the hill.