 | Poetic studies by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps |  |
139
ALL THE RIVERS.
“All the rivers run into the sea.”
Like the pulsing of a river,
The motion of a song,
Wind the olden words along
The tortuous turnings of my thoughts whenever
I sit beside the sea.
Like the pulsing of a river,
The motion of a song,
Wind the olden words along
The tortuous turnings of my thoughts whenever
I sit beside the sea.
“All the rivers run into the sea.”
O you little leaping river,
Laugh on beneath your breath!
With a heart as deep as death,
Strong stream, go patient, grave, and hasting never,—
I sit beside the sea.
O you little leaping river,
140
With a heart as deep as death,
Strong stream, go patient, grave, and hasting never,—
I sit beside the sea.
“All the rivers run into the sea.”
Why the passion of a river?
The striving of a soul?
Calm the eternal waters roll
Upon the eternal shore. At last, whatever
Seeks it—finds the sea.
Why the passion of a river?
The striving of a soul?
Calm the eternal waters roll
Upon the eternal shore. At last, whatever
Seeks it—finds the sea.
“All the rivers run into the sea.”
O thou bounding, burning river,
Hurrying heart! I seem
To know (so one knows in a dream)
That in the waiting heart of God forever,
Thou too shalt find the sea.
O thou bounding, burning river,
141
To know (so one knows in a dream)
That in the waiting heart of God forever,
Thou too shalt find the sea.
| Poetic studies by Elizabeth Stuart Phelps | |