Page:Poems Douglas.djvu/196

And from the margin of a stream,
 Soft quiv'ring to the gentle breeze—
Now dancing in the sunny beam,
 Now dark'ning 'neath o'er-arehing trees;

Now gliding on its level course,
 O'er sanded bottom, smooth and grey;
Then murm'ring, angry-like, and hoarse,
 When jutting rocks impede its way—
We gathered flowers of various hues,
 And wove festoons to deck our hair,
For bounteous Nature, all profuse,
 Display'd her sweetest colours there.

We lingered long by that bright stream,
 It seem'd a chosen fairy spot,
And each presented, in my dream,
 To me the flower, "Forget-me-not."
And one was there, a fair young boy,
 With gentle brow and sunny hair,
Whose very smile imparted joy—
 Yes, he, methought—he, too, was there.

I heard his voice—long silent now—
 And felt the magic of his smile,
And gazed upon his joyous brow,
 And, oh! my heart felt glad the while.
And then, when evening shades stole on,
 We gathered round the cheerful hearth,
And many a youthful voice, now gone,
 Joined in our guileless, boundless mirth.