 | In memory of W. V.: William Canton |  |
184
THE WATER-OUSEL
Beneath the brook, with folded wings
The Ousel walks; and one may hear,
In happy hour, the song he sings,
Submerged, yet elfin-sweet and clear.
The Ousel walks; and one may hear,
In happy hour, the song he sings,
Submerged, yet elfin-sweet and clear.
Dear child, I see in those fresh eyes
Far down, drawn deep from troublous things,
Your spirit walking, ousel-wise,
In dreamy song with folded wings.
Far down, drawn deep from troublous things,
Your spirit walking, ousel-wise,
In dreamy song with folded wings.
| In memory of W. V.: William Canton | |