“River, river, stay and tell me,
Whither going with such speed?”

RIVER.

“No, I cannot stop, for onward
I must go, the sea to feed.
I am one of many others,—
To the same great deep we go,
Pouring into it for ever,
Yet it doth not overflow.”

CHILD.

“Little brook, stay still a moment,
Dancing neath the summer sun,
With such sweet and pleasant music,
Tell me, whither do you run?”

BROOK.

“I am hastening to the river,
And I cannot longer stay,
I am one of many others,
Who must feed it day by day.”

CHILD.

“Little rill, which down the mountain,
Like a silver thread dost flow,
Tell me now before you leave me,
Why you are in haste to go?”