The River

A gentle stream, through the valleys wide, Doth wander beneath the bending trees; Where the flowers bloom on the fertile side, And the winds hum soft their melodies.

With laughter it breaks upon the stone, And gifts the earth with a soothing breath; Rekindling tales of the days gone lone, Through tranquil paths where it holds no death.

O river! Thy course is a sacred rhyme, That whispers the secrets of the Earth, In every ripple, a moment in time, A trance of renewal, a gifted birth.

So let me trace thy ever-flowing face, In Nature’s arms, get lost in thy grace.

—Felicia Hemans

• Felicia Hemans