The poetical writings of Elizabeth Oakes Smith Second edition |
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THE WATER. |
 | The poetical writings of Elizabeth Oakes Smith |  |
141
THE WATER.
How beautiful the water is!
Didst ever think of it,
When down it tumbles from the skies,
As in a merry fit?
It jostles, ringing as it falls,
On all that's in its way—
I hear it dancing on the roof,
Like some wild thing at play.
Didst ever think of it,
When down it tumbles from the skies,
As in a merry fit?
It jostles, ringing as it falls,
On all that's in its way—
I hear it dancing on the roof,
Like some wild thing at play.
'T is rushing now adown the spout
And gushing out below,
Half frantic in its joyousness,
And wild in eager flow.
The earth is dried and parched with heat,
And it hath longed to be
Released from out the selfish cloud,
To cool the thirsty tree.
And gushing out below,
Half frantic in its joyousness,
And wild in eager flow.
The earth is dried and parched with heat,
And it hath longed to be
Released from out the selfish cloud,
To cool the thirsty tree.
It washes, rather rudely too,
The floweret's simple grace,
As if to chide the pretty thing
For dust upon its face.
It showers the tree till every leaf
Is free from dust or stain,
Then waits till leaf and branch are stilled,
And showers them o'er again.
The floweret's simple grace,
As if to chide the pretty thing
For dust upon its face.
142
Is free from dust or stain,
Then waits till leaf and branch are stilled,
And showers them o'er again.
Drop after drop is tinkling down,
To kiss the stirring brook,
The water dimples from beneath
With its own joyous look;
And then the kindred drops embrace,
And singing on they go,
To dance beneath the willow-tree,
And glad the vale below.
To kiss the stirring brook,
The water dimples from beneath
With its own joyous look;
And then the kindred drops embrace,
And singing on they go,
To dance beneath the willow-tree,
And glad the vale below.
How beautiful the water is!
It loves to come at night,
To make us wonder in the morn
To find the earth so bright;
To see a youthful gloss is spread
On every shrub and tree,
And flowerets breathing on the air
Their odors pure and free.
It loves to come at night,
To make us wonder in the morn
To find the earth so bright;
To see a youthful gloss is spread
On every shrub and tree,
And flowerets breathing on the air
Their odors pure and free.
A dainty thing the water is,
It loves the blossom's cup,
To nestle 'mid the odors there,
And fill the petals up;
It hangs it gems on every leaf,
Like diamonds in the sun;
And then the water wins the smile
The floweret should have won.
It loves the blossom's cup,
To nestle 'mid the odors there,
And fill the petals up;
It hangs it gems on every leaf,
Like diamonds in the sun;
And then the water wins the smile
The floweret should have won.
143
How beautiful the water is!
To me 't is wondrous fair—
No spot can ever lonely be,
If water sparkle there—
It hath a thousand tongues of mirth,
Of grandeur, or delight;
And every heart is gladder made
When water greets the sight.
To me 't is wondrous fair—
No spot can ever lonely be,
If water sparkle there—
It hath a thousand tongues of mirth,
Of grandeur, or delight;
And every heart is gladder made
When water greets the sight.
| The poetical writings of Elizabeth Oakes Smith | |