SWEET STREAM.
I.
Sweet stream, that from the thickets free,
Comest dancing in thy mountain glee—
The thirsty traveller’s smiling friend—
To my reproachful plaint attend.
II.
The time’s long past, since here I laid
My limbs beneath the green-tree’s shade;
Yet grateful on thy waves I look,
Nor e’er forget my favorite brook.
III.
I am changed, sweet stream, and sadly changed,
Since mid these verdant fields I ranged.
I’ve proved the world, and learned how few
Of Hope’s beguiling dreams were true.
IV.
And now I fain to thee would fly
For sympathy which men deny—
Yet heed’st thou not my spirit’s pain!
Even here my weary search is vain.
V.
Why nourish still this turf of green?
These flowers my early joys have seen
Why linger yet soft breezes here,
As when they dried no falling tear?
VI.
And thou, in freshness glancing by,
Dost pause not for the wanderer’s sigh!
Thy current which no murmur hears,
Flows swifter for my added tears.