SONG OF THE BROOK.
BUTTERCUPS, daisies, and clover
Whisper and laugh and nod;
The little white clouds, sailing over,
Are bright with the smile of God;
The flower bells all are ringing,
As I flow through the meadow singing.
The tall trees, bending over,
Woo me-with tender grace;
As a child in the arms of its mother,
I hide my dimpled face.
Joyous the life upspringing,
As I flow through the woodland singing.
To the lily above me gleaming
The sweet old story I tell;
Lost in her happy dreaming,
She hangeth her silver bell,
Strength from the glad hills bringing,
As I flow through the valley singing.
The glad waves rush to find me;
I greet them with loving glee;
Leaving all toil behind me,
I rest in the sunlit sea;
hear its music ringing, As
I flow to the river singing.
Mary B. Ferry.