“An idle student,” many said, “who talks to trees and flowers,
And loiters by the running brook, and wastes away his hours.”
I saw him in the maple wood, beside that murmuring stream,
Stoop, gazing downward thoughtfully, as in a pleasant dream;
And as he gazed thus often spoke—“O stream, away, away,
To some far-off and unknown sea thou hastenest every day!
And trees and flowers and stars and clouds are mirrored on thy breast,
They cheer thee on with greetings kind thou smilest, but dost not rest.
So to its far eternity the longing spirit goes —
This stream of life—away—away—O God, how fast it flows!”