The Stream’s Song

Make way, make way,

You thwarting stones;

Room for my play,

Serious ones.

Do you not fear,

O rocks and boulders,

To feel my laughter

On your broad shoulders?

So you not know

My joy at length

Will all wear out

Your solemn strength?

You will not for ever

Cumber my play:

With joy and son

I clear my way.

Your faith of rock

Shall yield to me,

And be carried away

By the song of my glee.