THE stream runs on with speed and leisure too, Is voice and silence both; be you that stream. The sylvan sunbeam finds the moss and dew, And gilds but mars them not; be you that beam. O see, my treasure, from our tread How the brave grass lifts its meek head. "In heaven like southern seas immense and blue Spring clouds laugh changing, changing, dazzling deep With wonders' masquerade; rich-tongued anew The foreign birds are come, young salmon leap In snowy splendours; through the copse Favonian wings brush the bright drops." The stream runs on, and I have loved to lie Prone at its cressy brink and drink and hear, The time will come when, at the point to die, I'll wish a spirit-stream as cool and clear; But be till then the birds in May, The splendid fish, the violet day. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TONE PICTURE (MALIPIERO: IMPRESSONI DAL VERO) by JEAN STARR UNTERMEYER THAT NATURE IS A HERACLITEAN FIRE & OF THE COMFORT OF THE RESURRECTION by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS SIBERIA by JAMES CLARENCE MANGAN AUTUMN (1) by CHRISTINA GEORGINA ROSSETTI SONNET: 78 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE |