The Stream and I
We ramble on, the stream and I,
Still singing, still companionless.
We run to find, beneath the sky,
Some arid spot, some life to bless.
The brook is dreaming of the sea;
But I, fond spirit, dream of thee.
The brook's bright waters flow and flow;
All lush and green his track appears;
And it is given me to know
Some choral of the chanting spheres.
Our lives are tuneful as the birds,
With rippled song and gentle words.
And if, sometimes, we lurk apart
In secret grot or covert dale,
To bide a space and gather heart,
Anon we're laughing down the vale.
Though rain or tears our forces swell,
We find the sun and all is well.
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