Page:Poems Kimball.djvu/210

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THE RIVER
ABOVE the winding River's brink
The tall trees wave their branches green;
Their cool brown roots, washed bare and clean,
Reach down through cooler depths to drink.

"Behold, how heavenly is my task,"
Methinks the River murmurs low
"As God bestoweth, I bestow;
To be like Him is all I ask."

O River, thou and I are one
In sweet desire to serve and be;
Yet every day I grieve to see
How all my deeds do seaward run!

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