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The Water! The Water!
The Water! the Water!
The joyous brook for me,
That tuneth, through the quiet night,
Its ever-living glee.
The Water! the Water!
That sleepless merry heart,
Which gurgles on unstintedly,
And loveth to impart
To all around it some small measure
Of its own most perfect pleasure.
The Water! the Water!
The gentle stream for me,
That gushes from the old gray stone,
Beside the alder tree.
The Water! the Water!
That ever-bubbling spring
I loved and looked on while a child,
In deepest wondering,—
