 | Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover |  |
THE FOUNTAIN AND THE FLOWER.
A gentle flow'r of pallid hue,
Beside a sportive fountain grew,
And, as the streamlet murmur'd by,
Methought the flow'ret seem'd to sigh
“Yes, you may speed, in sparkling track,
Your onward course, nor e'er come back,
And murmur still your flattering song,
To ev'ry flower you glide along.”
And fancy said, in tender dream,
“The flow'r is Woman, Man the stream.”
Beside a sportive fountain grew,
And, as the streamlet murmur'd by,
Methought the flow'ret seem'd to sigh
“Yes, you may speed, in sparkling track,
Your onward course, nor e'er come back,
And murmur still your flattering song,
To ev'ry flower you glide along.”
And fancy said, in tender dream,
“The flow'r is Woman, Man the stream.”
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And fancy still, in fev'rish dream,
Pursued the course of that wild stream,
O'er rocks and falls all heedless cast,
And in the ocean lost at last:
“Glide on,” methought the flow'ret cried,
“Bright streamlet, in thy sparkling pride;
But when thro' deserts far you roam,
Perchance you'll sigh for early home,
And, sorrowing, think of that pale flow'r
You hurried by at morning hour.”
Pursued the course of that wild stream,
O'er rocks and falls all heedless cast,
And in the ocean lost at last:
“Glide on,” methought the flow'ret cried,
“Bright streamlet, in thy sparkling pride;
But when thro' deserts far you roam,
Perchance you'll sigh for early home,
And, sorrowing, think of that pale flow'r
You hurried by at morning hour.”
| Songs and ballads by Samuel Lover | |