The Lover's Songster/The Streamlet

by Henry Bate Dudley

The Streamlet.

THE streamlet that flow'd round her cot
All the charms of my Emily knew,
How oft has its course been forgot,
While it paus'd her dear image to woo.
Believe me, the fond silver tide
Knew from whence it deriv'd the fair prize,
For silently swelling with pride,
It reflected her back to the skies.