Page:Poems (Bryant, 1821).djvu/45

 That fairy music I never hear,

Nor gaze on those waters so green and clear,

And mark them winding away from sight,

Darkened with shade, or flashing with light,

While o’er thee, the vine to its thicket clings,

And the zephyr stoops to freshen his wings;—

But I wish that fate had left me free

To wander these quiet haunts with thee,

Till the eating cares of earth should depart,

And the peace of the scene pass into my heart;

And I envy thy stream as it glides along

Through its beautiful banks, in a trance of song.

Though forced to drudge for the dregs of men,

And scrawl strange words with the barbarous pen,

And mingle among the jostling crowd,

Where the sons of strife are subtle and loud;

I sometimes come to this quiet place

To breathe the air that ruffles thy face,

And gaze upon thee in silent dream;

For, in thy lonely and lovely stream,

An image of that calm life appears

That won my heart in my greener years.