Page:Poems Bushnell.djvu/40

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XIV
PEACE AS A RIVER
Why ask for joy's tumultuous thrill,
That suffers no increase?
Better the motions sure and still
Of ever-deepening peace.

Better to dwell with lowly things
And with their growth to grow;
To feel within those secret springs,
That gather cool and slow.

Born of such stillness, wells the brook,
In leafy closet dim;
Till the full silenqe of the nook
O'erflows into a hymn.

The little singer trips along
In musical content;
But ever gains a fuller song
And learns its own intent.

Gladly it spends its tuneful grace
In hidden minstrelsy;
Nor asks, as yet, a wider space,
But just to sing and be.

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