SONG OF THE BROOK.

 

 

BUTTERCUPS, daisies, and clover

Whisper and laugh and nod;

The little white clouds, sailing over,

Are bright with the smile of God;

The flower bells all are ringing,

As I flow through the meadow singing.

The tall trees, bending over,

Woo me-with tender grace;

As a child in the arms of its mother,

I hide my dimpled face.

Joyous the life upspringing,

As I flow through the woodland singing.

To the lily above me gleaming

The sweet old story I tell;

Lost in her happy dreaming,

She hangeth her silver bell,

Strength from the glad hills bringing,

As I flow through the valley singing.

The glad waves rush to find me;

I greet them with loving glee;

Leaving all toil behind me,

I rest in the sunlit sea;

hear its music ringing, As

I flow to the river singing.

 

 

 

Mary B. Ferry.