THE BROOK.

Southland Times, Issue 1045, 26 October 1868, Page 3

THE BROOK.

Over thepeebles, dancing lightly, , Through, the meadows shining brightly, Like a long fair silver thread, Gliding over its sandy bed, '..•'■■! Cutting across the fields to the river, Twists and curves the brook for ever. It runs aside to a shady bower . . To greet and kiss some pretty flower, j Or gently clasps a violet ; then In its capriciousness, like men, It hurries on to some fairer place, Reflecting each wild flower's blushing face.; Under the rustic bridge, on to the river, Twists and curves the brook for ever. Under a dome of bright green leaves, That some old forest tree over it weaves, It blends its music with that of the breeze Which sings as it wanders through the trees j Then prattling glides from the leafy grove, Which has heard the wild bird's song of love, And catching a note from this woodland song, Through pastures broad it hurries along. ■ Here the evening star looks down in its face j And the moon her crescent can clearly trace In the shining stream, as on for ever Through a deeb ravine it goes to the river. 'Tis a beauitiful place — fair Eivernook — Through which now lovingly murmurs the brook, . Sheltered o'erhead by a huge elm tree, Whose leafy boughs hang gracefully O'er the velvet grass ; and the dimpled stream Keflects them vaguely as in a dream. The brook comes forth from the dark ravine, From the silent glcom to the sunlight's sheen, Dallying long in the daisied grass, With a surface unruffled and smooth as glass ; Then between the banks where tall reeds quiver, It silently glideß and is lost for ever. I. Wahjs Cook.