Fables in Song :: :: University of Virginia Library

The water flows, and it never stops.
And the water is many, although it is one:
One made up of innumerous drops,
Each with a life to itself alone.
And the life of them all is the life of the sea;
Which is but a drop no longer single,
When, being socially-minded, he
With his brother drops doth move and mingle.
For, fling but a poodle in it, and lo!
When he shakes himself, as a dog will do,
How many and merry the drops reappear!
Yet each, meanwhile, tho' you were not able
To see him, was there, in his own small sphere,
Busy and brisk. Let who will give ear
To this (what is it?) that drops from me,
Dropt, to find—whatever that be—

105

Its fate in the world: a tale—a fable—
A truth perchance—but I know not what.
And, if my fable share the lot
Of its little heroes, and fall forgot,
What matter? It is but a drop in the ocean,
As they were once. With an unseen motion
Hovering hid in the happy air,
Social wanderers next they were.
Till, lured through the azure heats aloft
By the wooing sun, so strong, yet soft,
And then caught by the cold of the upper heaven,
To the realms afar,
Where the polar star
Hath his palace of ice, these drops were driven.
There, chill'd by the power
Of the north again,
In a resonant shower
Of riotous rain
A whirlwind chased them over the main;
Till, mad with mirth
To have reach'd the earth,
They leapt, when their need of escape was sorest,
Down on a Pomeranian forest;
Rattled his wrinkled oak-leaves shrill,
And made his deep glens hiss and thrill.

2.

Some of them fell in the soft moss under,
And lay there a-quiver with glad bright wonder:

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Till, forced to shun the importunate sun,
Thro' the spongy soil their way they worm'd
Into a Secret Society, form'd
Of operative springs. By these
With welcome somewhat cold and chary,
Tho' waxing warmer by degrees,
As merely members honorary
They were elected. But, in course
Of time, their due probation o'er,
Each to the rank of a mineral source
Promotion gain'd; and gather'd store
Of mineral salt and mineral ore;
Purgative, stimulant, sedative, tonic;
Then, travelling about on their own account
With sulphur, or iron, or acid carbonic,
They founded many a famous fount,
Made their fortunes, and all fared well,
At Carlsbad, Vichy, or Aix la Chapelle.

3.

Some of them fell on the mountain flanks;
Leapt into the first fresh torrent they found,
And, down to the valley in vigorous ranks
Gambolling, sprang with a buoyant bound
Over the wheel of the water-mill;
Whirl'd the reluctant monster round,
And set themselves with a blithe good will
To the sawing of wood: then wander'd, still
And serious, into the lower sluices;
Whence, putting their strength to social uses,

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They carried down to the busy town
Many a barge-load's heavy weight
Of flour, and timber, and chalk, and slate,
And . . . But you must not expect me to state
Every detail, or my breath would fail
Before I am come to the end of my tale.
Suffice it to say, that day by day
They did their duty, work'd their way,
In this world's business took their share,
And earn'd their wages, whatever those were.

4.

But the others? They whose lot
Lured me first to tell this story?
Undiscover'd drops, that got
Neither gain, nor grace, nor glory,
How fared they?

5.

In a showery spray,
Brisk as emmets, and as many,
Fast they speeded, unsuspicious,
Down each wrinkle, chink, and cranny
Of the tree they chanced on. “This”
Thought they all, nor thought amiss,
“Is the road most expeditious.”
Ah, most expeditious—yes!
To what end, tho'? Who can guess,

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Who declare, the end of any
Road that earthly travellers wend?
Even the end of this, my fable,
I to tell you am not able
Until I have reach'd the end.