Page:Ethel Churchill 2.pdf/21

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My heart hath turned aside From its early dreams; To me their course has been Like mountain streams.

Bright and pure they left Their place of birth; Soon on every wave Came taints of earth.

Weeds grew upon the banks, And, as the waters swept, A bad or useless part Of all they kept.

Till it reached the plain below, An altered thing Bearing gloomy trace,— Of its wandering.

again pursued his way, lost in a very mixed reverie; sometimes writhing under an