I walked by the side of a tranquil stream,
That the sun had tinged with its parting beam;
The water was still, and so crystal clear
That every spray had its image there.
And every reed that o’er it bowed,
And the crimson streak and the silvery cloud,
And all that was bright, and all that was fair,
And all that was gay was reflected there.
But I took a stone that lay beside,
And I cast it far on the glassy tide;