Page:Thirty poems (IA thirtypoems00bryarich).pdf/44

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THE WIND AND STREAM.

A brook came stealing from the ground;
 You scarcely saw its silvery gleam
Among the herbs that hung around
 The borders of that winding stream,
The pretty stream, the placid stream,
The softly gliding, bashful stream.

A breeze came wandering from the sky,
 Light as the whispers of a dream;
He put the o'erhanging grasses by,
 And softly stooped to kiss the stream,
The pretty stream, the flattered stream,
The shy, yet unreluctant stream.

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