THE STREAM SET FREE.
135
Once more the holy starlight
Sleeps calm upon thy breast,
Whose brightness bears no token more
Of man's unrest.
Flow, and let free-born music
Flow with thy wavy line,
While the stock-dove's lingering loving voice
Comes blent with thine.
And the green reeds quivering o'er thee,
Strings of the forest-lyre,
All fill'd with answering spirit-sounds,
In joy respire.
Yet, midst thy song's glad changes,
Oh! keep one pitying tone
For gentle hearts, that bear to thee
Their sadness lone.
