SONG OF THE BROOK. By thirty hills I hurry down, Or slip between the ridges; By twenty thorps, a little town, And half a hundred bridges. Till last by Philip's farm I flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I chatter over stony ways, With many a curve my banks I fret By many a field and fallow, And many a fairy foreland set With willow-weed and mallow. I chatter, chatter, as I flow To join the brimming river; For men may come and men may go, But I go on for ever. I wind about, and in and out, With here a blossom sailing, And here and there a lusty trout, And here and there a grayling, And here and there a foamy flake And draw them all along, and flow 1 steal by lawns and grassy plots; I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, Among my skimming swallows, I make the netted sunbeam dance Against my sandy shallows. I murmur under moon and stars I loiter round my cresses; And out again I curve and flow For men may come and men may go, 27 ALFRED TENNYSON. The Question. I DREAMED that, as I wandered by the way, And gentle odors led my steps astray, Mixed with the sound of waters murmuring, Along a shelvy bank of turf, which lay Under a copse, and hardly dared to fling Its green arms round the bosom of the stream, But kissed it and then fled, as thou mightest in a dream. There grew pied wind-flowers and violets, Daisies-those pearled Arcturi of the earth, The constellated flower that never sets; Faint oxlips; tender blue-bells, at whose birth The sod scarce heaved; and that tall flower that wets, Like a child, half in tenderness and mirth, Its mother's face with heaven-collected tears, When the low wind, its playmate's voice, it hears. And in the warm hedge grew bush-eglantine, Green cow-bind and the moonlight-colored May; And cherry-blossoms, and white caps whose wine Was the bright dew yet drained not by the day; And wild roses, and ivy serpentine With its dark buds and leaves wandering astray; And flowers azure, black and streaked with gold, Fairer than any wakened eyes behold. And nearer to the river's trembling edge, There grew broad flag-flowers, purple prankt with white; And starry river buds among the sedge And floating water-lilies, broad and bright, Which lit the oak that overhung the hedge With moonlight beams of their own watery light; And bulrushes, and reeds of such deep green As soothed the dazzled eye with sober sheen. Trailing Arbutus. DARLINGS of the forest! Blossoming, alone, When Earth's grief is sorest For her jewels gone― TRAILING ARBUTUS. The purple petals fallen in the pool Made the black waters with their beauty gayHere might the red-bird come his plumes to cool, And court the flower that cheapens his array. Rhodora! if the sages ask thee why This charm is wasted on the marsh and sky, Ere the last snow-drift melts, your tender buds Dear, tell them, that if eyes were made for seeing, have blown. Tinged with color faintly, Like the morning sky, Or, more pale and saintly, Wrapped in leaves ye lie— Even as children sleep in faith's simplicity. There the wild wood-robin, Hymns your solitude; And the rain comes sobbing Through the budding wood, Then beauty is its own excuse for being. Why thou wert there, O rival of the rose! I never thought to ask; I never knew, 31 The selfsame Power that brought me there, brought you. Nature. THE bubbling brook doth leap when I come by, While the low south wind sighs, but dare not be Because my feet find measure with its call; more rude. Were your pure lips fashioned Out of air and dew, Starlight unimpassioned, Dawn's most tender hue, The birds know when the friend they love is nigh, And scented by the woods that gathered sweets for For he who with his Maker walks aright, Shall be their lord as Adam was before; Song of Spring. LAUD the first Spring daisies; And live in the dear woods where my lost child- Send the children up |