 | The Outcast, and other poems |  |
134
THE TWO STREAMS.
Two mountain streams like joyous youth,
Came down the steep with dance and song—
Rosy with morn and clear as truth,
The laughing waters swept along.
Came down the steep with dance and song—
Rosy with morn and clear as truth,
The laughing waters swept along.
Away they went with madcap glee,
And headlong leap o'er rock and bar,
Shouting like noisy school set free
And sending forth their music far.
And headlong leap o'er rock and bar,
Shouting like noisy school set free
And sending forth their music far.
And now they toss their snowy fingers,
And throw the gauzy spray in air,
And now each circling eddy lingers,
To gaze upon the rainbow there.
And throw the gauzy spray in air,
And now each circling eddy lingers,
To gaze upon the rainbow there.
And now the playful wavelets twine
Their swelling breasts with bubbles bright,
And now the rougher billows shine,
With foam-wreaths on their brows of light.
Their swelling breasts with bubbles bright,
And now the rougher billows shine,
With foam-wreaths on their brows of light.
135
The streams now reach the valley deep
And side by side like lovers go,
And in their wide meandering sweep,
Move with a soft and silvery flow.
And side by side like lovers go,
And in their wide meandering sweep,
Move with a soft and silvery flow.
And now the moonlit ripples glide
With plaintive sighs mid bowering willows—
The whispering zephyrs woo the tide
And hold fond dalliance with the billows.
With plaintive sighs mid bowering willows—
The whispering zephyrs woo the tide
And hold fond dalliance with the billows.
And now the eddies whirl with bliss,
White lilies in their arms all drooping,
And leaping waters steal a kiss,
From roses to their lips half stooping.
White lilies in their arms all drooping,
And leaping waters steal a kiss,
From roses to their lips half stooping.
And now these kindred streams unite,
And fondly mingle into one—
One full fair tide, whose waters bright,
Quiver and flash beneath the sun!
And fondly mingle into one—
One full fair tide, whose waters bright,
Quiver and flash beneath the sun!
Onward it flows! But soon the stream—
That silver stream, whose peaceful lave
Seemed like a pure and placid dream,
Is stained with many a turbid wave.
That silver stream, whose peaceful lave
Seemed like a pure and placid dream,
Is stained with many a turbid wave.
136
Its crystal breast is torn and crossed
By busy ships that o'er it ply,
And its once tranquil wave is lost,
Amid the strife that hurries by.
By busy ships that o'er it ply,
And its once tranquil wave is lost,
Amid the strife that hurries by.
Onward it flows with ceaseless sweep
To meet the fretful ocean's roar,—
And there it mingles with the deep,
And the fair stream is seen no more!
To meet the fretful ocean's roar,—
And there it mingles with the deep,
And the fair stream is seen no more!
| The Outcast, and other poems | |