The willow and the river
Ripple with silver speech,
And one refrain forever
They murmur each to each:
"Brook with the silver gravel,
Would that your lot were mine;
To wander free, to travel
Where greener valleys shine--
Strange ventures, fresh revealings,
And, at the end--the sea!
Brook, with your turns and wheelings,
How rich your life must be."
"Tree with the golden rustling,
Would that I were so blessed,
To cease this stumbling, jostling,
This feverish unrest.
I join the ocean's riot;
You stand song-filled--and free!
Tree, with your peace and quiet,
How rich your life must be."
_The willow and the river
Ripple with silver speech,
And one refrain forever
They murmur each to each._