Page:Poems Ripley.djvu/51

Still on it flowed 'neath many a rustic bridge
 Where lovers lingered in the soft twilight
And listened to its music as it sped,
 While in their eyes there glanced the old lovelight.

Then dreamily it loitered 'mong sweet fields,
 Where meadow grasses rippled like the sea,—
And graceful birds did clip the sunny air
 In search of coolness in some leafy tree.

Then on it glanced through many a deep, green wood,
 Where many a delicate blossom starred the earth;
And many a delicate vine and clump of fern,
 Along its gracious banks, sprang into birth.

Still on, creating beauty every-where,
 And spreading life and moisture far and wide,—
And singing merrily, as if in glee:
 A water-symphony long the mountain side.

On, on it sped to join a deep, blue lake,
 That gleamed like to a monster, sapphire gem,
In the golden light of the sweet, midsummer sun,
 Gracing the horizon, like a broidered hem.

A city nestled close upon its banks,
 Through which the mountain stream must swiftly pass.—
Through many a culvert, on it glanced full swift,
 Then out into the sun, 'tween banks of grass.

Then close it wound beneath a wooded hill,
 Then 'neath a dingy culvert, foul and dark,
And full of oozy slime, and sticky mould,
 Which left upon its waters a foul mark.

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