Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, THE WOODLAND BROOK, by LETITIA ELIZABETH LANDON



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THE WOODLAND BROOK, by             Poet's Biography
First Line: Thou art flowing, thou art flowing
Last Line: A deeper fondness o'er me steal.
Alternate Author Name(s): L. E. L.; Maclean, Letitia


THOU art flowing, thou art flowing,
Oh, small and silvery brook;
The rushes by thee growing,
And with a patient look
The pale narcissus o'er thee bends,
Like one who asks in vain for friends.

I bring not back my childhood,
Sweet comrade of its hours;
The music of the wild wood,
The colour of the flowers;
They do not bring again the dream
That haunted me beside thy stream.

When black-lettered old romances
Made a world for me alone;
Oh, days of lovely fancies,
Are ye for ever flown?
Ye are fled, sweet, vague, and vain,
So I cannot dream again.

I have left a feverish pillow
For thy soothing song;
Alas, each fairy billow
An image bears along;
Look where I will, I only see
One face too much beloved by me.

In vain my heart remembers
What pleasure used to be
My past thoughts are but embers
Consumed by love for thee.
I wish to love thee less -- and feel
A deeper fondness o'er me steal.





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