A MELODY.
Afar and near, afar and wide,
The murm’ring chant of a running stream,
Across the rocks to the brimming tide
Of the shining sea, its waters gleam.
Low in the beeches, hid from sight,
A robin is singing a song so sweet,
Its rapturous melody seems a flight
Of song from Heaven’s own azure deep.
O fateful river, now gleaming, now dark,
Like my checkered life of shadow and sun,
But always through it the song of my heart
Like the robin’s vesper, to God is sung.
But ever the river rolls along
With manifold crews of human souls;
And ever, the robin’s clear, sweet song
Is heard afar as the river rolls.
—Amanda M. E. Booth.