On the River

Soft streams that flow with stories old,
Whisper to me your tales, I pray;
For in your depths, the dreams unfold
Like petals in the hallowed day.

O river sweet, dost thou know when
The skies have wept and joy took wing?
I hear you hum the songs of men
Who ply their craft and gleaning sing.

With flowing ease you take your course,
In silver moondrops, hold their face;
Thou dost bring forth the gentle force
That guides the weary through their race.

• John Davies