IMITATED FROM THE ABOVE.

Flow, gentle stream, thy course pursue

Beneath the shade of waving bowers,

Where sunbeams lightly glancing through,

The dew-drops kiss from off the flowers.

Thy murmurs charm the list'ning ear,

And soothe the senses to repose—

No wayward passion rages here,

The heart no throbbing tumult knows.

Thy waters, as they glide along,

Reflect but images of peace,

Emblem of days, too swiftly flown,

Pass'd in the midst of happiness.

Flow on, fair stream, thy course pursue

Beneath the shade of waving bowers,

Where sunbeams lightly glancing through,

Kiss the bright dew from off the flowers.