Poems (Douglas)/The Stream of Life
For works with similar titles, see The Stream of Life.
The Stream of Life.
Life's infant stream, how calm and fair,
And beautiful it lies,
It's silv'ry surf reflecting clear
Young morning's cloudless skies!
How smooth our little barque glides on
Upon the sunny stream—
How everything we gaze upon
Looks bright as poet's dream.
And beautiful it lies,
It's silv'ry surf reflecting clear
Young morning's cloudless skies!
How smooth our little barque glides on
Upon the sunny stream—
How everything we gaze upon
Looks bright as poet's dream.
Unruffled by one breeze of care
The waters onward glide,
Unbittered by one woe-fraught tear
Flows on the lucid tide
Or if a tear should chance to fall
In childish sorrowing,
'Tis lighter than the dewy pearl
Shook from the skylark's wing.
The waters onward glide,
Unbittered by one woe-fraught tear
Flows on the lucid tide
Or if a tear should chance to fall
In childish sorrowing,
'Tis lighter than the dewy pearl
Shook from the skylark's wing.
And oh! what sweet and gladsome bowers
The sunny banks adorn—
We reach and pluck the fadeless flowers
That bloom without a thorn;
With bounding heart we rapturous drink
From young joy's guileless spring,
Nor ever in that bright hour think
What sorrows yet shall ring
The sunny banks adorn—
We reach and pluck the fadeless flowers
That bloom without a thorn;
With bounding heart we rapturous drink
From young joy's guileless spring,
Nor ever in that bright hour think
What sorrows yet shall ring
The heart round which dance dreamy things,
Bright as the golden beam
The orb of day effulgent flings
Upon the silver stream.
On, onward by the current borne,
We reach the stream of youth;
We fancy, as in life's young morn,
All innocence and truth:
Bright as the golden beam
The orb of day effulgent flings
Upon the silver stream.
On, onward by the current borne,
We reach the stream of youth;
We fancy, as in life's young morn,
All innocence and truth:
We see the flowers we loved so much,
And try to catch the joy;
We, passing, grasp—but at our touch
The transient glories die.
Now fancy's rainbow tints pourtray
Our path, along the wave
All sunshine, and the colours gay,
Hide far the distant grave.
And try to catch the joy;
We, passing, grasp—but at our touch
The transient glories die.
Now fancy's rainbow tints pourtray
Our path, along the wave
All sunshine, and the colours gay,
Hide far the distant grave.
The stream is deeper, wider now,
And fitful gales arise;
Deep whirlpools grumble far below,
And darker seem the skies.
We're launch'd on manhood's watery Waste—-
We drink of manhood's cup—
'Tis gall and acid to the taste—
Ah! where's the honied drop?
And fitful gales arise;
Deep whirlpools grumble far below,
And darker seem the skies.
We're launch'd on manhood's watery Waste—-
We drink of manhood's cup—
'Tis gall and acid to the taste—
Ah! where's the honied drop?
Hope, like a phantom, but allures
Our path from wave to wave,
With joys that never can be ours
On this side of the grave.
As little wanton school-boys try
Their shadow to outrun,
So we pursue the fleeting joy,
And end as we began.
Our path from wave to wave,
With joys that never can be ours
On this side of the grave.
As little wanton school-boys try
Their shadow to outrun,
So we pursue the fleeting joy,
And end as we began.
Then back, through disappointment's tears,
On by-past scenes we gaze;
There, in the vale of other years,
The stream of early days,
Bright as the azure vault above,
In hallow'd glory lies:
Oh! all is happiness and love
'Neath young life's sunny skies.
On by-past scenes we gaze;
There, in the vale of other years,
The stream of early days,
Bright as the azure vault above,
In hallow'd glory lies:
Oh! all is happiness and love
'Neath young life's sunny skies.