New Poems

by Charles G.D. Roberts


 

THE STREAM


 

I KNOW a stream
Than which no lovelier flows.
Its banks a-gleam
With yarrow and wild rose,
Singing it goes
5
And shining through my dream.

Its waters glide
Beneath the basking noon,
A magic tide
That keeps perpetual June.

10
There the light sleeps
Unstirred by any storm;
The wild mouse creeps
Through tall weeds hushed and warm;

And the shy snipe,

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Alighting unafraid,
With sudden pipe
Awakes the dreaming shade.

So long ago!
Still, still my memory hears

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Its silver flow
Across the sundering years,—
Its roses glow,
Ah, through what longing tears!