I KNOW a brook that winds its way along A dull and stony margin --dwarfish trees And barren vegetation mark its course. The stern, bold grandeur of the granite rock Frowns not upon it-- and the smooth, green lawn Slopes not to meet it. Nothing there is seen Save one pure limpid spring, perennial, That oozes from the rock and from the moss. There, all that flourishes of bright and green Is clustered, there the freshest of the grass Laves in the welling rill. No man would think In such a cold and barren spot, to find Any thing sweet, or pure, or beautiful; But yet, I say, it is the loveliest gush --'T is so sequestered, and so arboured o'er With nature's wildness in its summer glow -- The loveliest gush that ever spouted out Upon my wandering path. Through mud and mire, O'er many a bramble, many a jagged shoot I stumbled, ere I found it. There I placed A frail memorial-- that, when again I should revisit it, the thought might come Of the dull tide of life, and that pure spring Which he who drinks of never shall thirst more. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...WOMEN MEN'S SHADOWS by BEN JONSON THE PLACE OF THE DAMNED by JONATHAN SWIFT VIRGINIA - THE WEST by WALT WHITMAN FOOTLIGHT MOTIFS: 1. MRS. VERNON CASTLE by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS A SONG OF PROGRESS by ALEXANDER ANDERSON |