Poems (Chitwood)/To a Favorite Stream
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TO A FAVORITE STREAM.
Stream, flowing through my childhood's haunts, art thou
Still the same laughing-hearted, joyous thing
As when I cast fresh roses on thy brow,
In the blue morn of life's delicious spring?
I would give much to hear the bee-like song,
Rising from thy pure heart in numbers clear,
O'er the white pebbles,—ah! it hath been long
Since paused I there, with smiling lip to hear.
Still the same laughing-hearted, joyous thing
As when I cast fresh roses on thy brow,
In the blue morn of life's delicious spring?
I would give much to hear the bee-like song,
Rising from thy pure heart in numbers clear,
O'er the white pebbles,—ah! it hath been long
Since paused I there, with smiling lip to hear.
Where are thy haunts? Methinks I see thee still,
Winding, like silvery threads, with brow of light,
Thy shining arms around the clovered hill,
Where young birds chirp among the grasses bright,
And balmy breezes bear soft odors down
The yellow ridges of the rocking wheat—
Thy every wave a sunbeam's golden crown,
Thy every tone a waif of music sweet.
Winding, like silvery threads, with brow of light,
Thy shining arms around the clovered hill,
Where young birds chirp among the grasses bright,
And balmy breezes bear soft odors down
The yellow ridges of the rocking wheat—
Thy every wave a sunbeam's golden crown,
Thy every tone a waif of music sweet.
Along the orchard, where the shining leaves
Flutter and rustle all the summer's day,
Thy sunny brow full many a leaf receives,
And wafts it, like a fairy-barque, away,—
Through the green lawn, where tall trees wave on high
Their strong brown arms; and this, the quiet glen,
Where sun-like flowers send fragrance to the sky,
And blessings, through the dew, fall back again.
Flutter and rustle all the summer's day,
Thy sunny brow full many a leaf receives,
And wafts it, like a fairy-barque, away,—
Through the green lawn, where tall trees wave on high
Their strong brown arms; and this, the quiet glen,
Where sun-like flowers send fragrance to the sky,
And blessings, through the dew, fall back again.
Dear, sunny stream, oh! does the sunbeam's woof
Lie, like gold tissue, on thy singing breast?
Dost thou still see the steep old homestead roof?
And the white church spire, melting in the west?
And hast thou quite forgotten, as the years
Have slowly circled, with their change, away,
The joyous-hearted child, whose hopes and fears
Cast not a shadow further than the day?
Lie, like gold tissue, on thy singing breast?
Dost thou still see the steep old homestead roof?
And the white church spire, melting in the west?
And hast thou quite forgotten, as the years
Have slowly circled, with their change, away,
The joyous-hearted child, whose hopes and fears
Cast not a shadow further than the day?
I know not, stream beloved,—when, sick with strife
And quenchless thirstings, I have thought of thee,
And wished, like thine, the current of my life
Floated in quiet beauty toward the sea,—
But in my heart there is a secret urn,
A place of purity, and there I keep
The jewels of my childhood, and I turn
From the world's music to their place of sleep.
And quenchless thirstings, I have thought of thee,
And wished, like thine, the current of my life
Floated in quiet beauty toward the sea,—
But in my heart there is a secret urn,
A place of purity, and there I keep
The jewels of my childhood, and I turn
From the world's music to their place of sleep.
Stream, loved in childhood, oft I come to thee,
O'er weary miles, on Thought's mysterious wings;
Bringing away thy music, as a bee
Brings the rich honey with the song it sings.
I know thy haunts by grove, and hill, and dell;
By the old homestead, 'neath the willow tree;—
As of the ocean moans the faithful shell,
So sings my heart, forevermore, of thee.
O'er weary miles, on Thought's mysterious wings;
Bringing away thy music, as a bee
Brings the rich honey with the song it sings.
I know thy haunts by grove, and hill, and dell;
By the old homestead, 'neath the willow tree;—
As of the ocean moans the faithful shell,
So sings my heart, forevermore, of thee.