Croaked from its dewy grot, the wandering steps
Of him who searched for water hither drew;
Not heedless of the guiding voice, he found
The longed-for draught from the sweet cooling spring.
Translation of W. Hay.
LITTLE STREAMS.
Little streams are light and shadow,
Flowing through the pasture meadow—
Flowing by the green way-side,
Through the forest dim and wild,