WRIGHTS* * * *(Dennison Woodcock.)* * * *Among the spurs of AlleghenyLofty hills with wooded heights,Nestled in the Portage ValleyIs the little hamlet Wrights.Hamilton and Portage ValleyBy right angles, here unite;Both together make a fairlyGood and level village site.Limpid streams unto the riverOn their way go babbling by;While the silvery pools, they mirrorCloudlets floating in the sky.Growing grain and verdant meadows,Fields of corn, silos to fill;Winding streams and waving willowsOrchards on the sloping hill.Cattle grazing in the pastureOn the hillside fresh and green,With their coats of silky luster,Many goats and kids are seen.There's the schoolhouse at the corner,Quiet order there appears,Where the earnest studious learnersAre prepared for future years.There's the church with lofty steeple,And the old bell hanging there,Often rings to call the peopleTo their sermon, praise and prayer.Another church they are building,The foundation they have laid;May the golden truth be gildingAll the words that there are said.On the switch the cars are loadedWith potatoes, grain and hay,So the farmers are commodedAs they ship their goods away.Hark! we hear the train a-rumbling.People waiting for a ride;Four times a day the mail is coming,All aboard! Away they glide.There's the store nearby the railroad.,Business humming every day;Goods are brought there by the carloadMany teams draw them away.Another store where the farmerBuys the tools that he may need;From a reaper to a hammer,Groceries with feed and seed.The factory where they make the cheeses,Great round cheeses, just the thingWhat the most the patron pleasesIs the cash the cheeses bring.Here the honest, frugal farmersWith the help of care and toil,Bringing wealth into their garners,Drawing money from the soil.Smiles play on the the neighbors' faces,Accent of fraternal love,While at many times and places,Kindly deeds their friendship prove.
Among the spurs of AlleghenyLofty hills with wooded heights,Nestled in the Portage ValleyIs the little hamlet Wrights.Hamilton and Portage ValleyBy right angles, here unite;Both together make a fairlyGood and level village site.Limpid streams unto the riverOn their way go babbling by;While the silvery pools, they mirrorCloudlets floating in the sky.Growing grain and verdant meadows,Fields of corn, silos to fill;Winding streams and waving willowsOrchards on the sloping hill.Cattle grazing in the pastureOn the hillside fresh and green,With their coats of silky luster,Many goats and kids are seen.There's the schoolhouse at the corner,Quiet order there appears,Where the earnest studious learnersAre prepared for future years.There's the church with lofty steeple,And the old bell hanging there,Often rings to call the peopleTo their sermon, praise and prayer.Another church they are building,The foundation they have laid;May the golden truth be gildingAll the words that there are said.On the switch the cars are loadedWith potatoes, grain and hay,So the farmers are commodedAs they ship their goods away.Hark! we hear the train a-rumbling.People waiting for a ride;Four times a day the mail is coming,All aboard! Away they glide.There's the store nearby the railroad.,Business humming every day;Goods are brought there by the carloadMany teams draw them away.Another store where the farmerBuys the tools that he may need;From a reaper to a hammer,Groceries with feed and seed.The factory where they make the cheeses,Great round cheeses, just the thingWhat the most the patron pleasesIs the cash the cheeses bring.Here the honest, frugal farmersWith the help of care and toil,Bringing wealth into their garners,Drawing money from the soil.Smiles play on the the neighbors' faces,Accent of fraternal love,While at many times and places,Kindly deeds their friendship prove.