Wandering Streams

Wandering alone in a wood,
Saw I a silver stream,
A silver stream running by.
The water shone and sparkled,
Like light on silver mail; and,
It sang and gurgled in a pleasant way.
Fishes swam here and there,
Red ones like flashes of fire,
Golden ones like honey pure,
Silver ones like moonlight cool,
And grey ones like the clouds above.
They swam in shoals in the brook,
Through the waving fronds and flowers.
I saw lilies here and there,
Glittering and dancing in the flow,
Like diamonds on a silver plate,
They shone dazzling white and bright.
Bound to the place by its beauty,
My heart soared out,
Out from its cage of care.
thus I sat by the running brook,
And listened to her wondrous song.
The sun set as I watched,
Set into the hills on my side...
The hills where the stream rose.
the sun set as I watched,
Set in a blaze of golden red.
The waters turned golden, and
The stream flowed on.......
On into the darkening east.
I watched the darkness close,
close like a shutter drawn,
Drawn over a lamp that burned,
Bright and clear minutes ago.
I heard the call of the hunting owls,
I saw the moon rise over the trees,
The waters turned silver; and ran on,
Ran on into the silver east.....
The stream reflected the light,
From the bright new stars,
Stars that like gems in dark satin,
Shone down from the sky above.
The moon waxed high in the sky,
Lighting the woods ghostly pale.
After a while I rose with a sigh,
Knowing that things must end,
Good or bad, must all end sometime.
I turned my face homewards,
And the stream was lost to view.
Though I have seen many streams,
Streams and rivers mighty old,
The memory of this bubbly stream,
Will gurgle on forever......