River, River, little River,
Bright you sparkle on your way,
O'er the yellow pebbles dancing,
Through the flowers and foliage glancing,
Like a child at play.
River, River, swelling River,
On you rush o'er rough and smooth--
Louder, faster, brawling, leaping
Over rocks, by rose-banks sweeping,
Like impetuous youth.
River, River, brimming River,
Broad and deep and _still_ as Time,
Seeming _still_--yet still in motion,
Tending onward to the ocean,
Just like mortal prime.
River, River, rapid River,
Swifter now you slip away;
Swift and silent as an arrow,
Through a channel dark and narrow,
Like life's closing day.
River, River, headlong River,
Down you dash into the sea;
Sea, that line hath never sounded,
Sea, that voyage hath never rounded,
Like eternity.
_Blackwood's Magazine._
* * * * *
The Anecdote Gallery.
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