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First Line: The stream runs on with speed and leisure too
Last Line: The splendid fish, the violet day.
Alternate Author Name(s): Blunden, Edmund

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.

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