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THE NAMELESS STREAM
[Illustration: Letter B.]
Beautiful stream! By rock and dell
There's not an inch in all thy course
I have not track'd. I know thee well:
I know where blossoms the yellow gorse;
I know where waves the pale bluebell,
And where the orchis and violets dwell.
I know where the foxglove rears its head,
And where the heather tufts are spread;
I know where the meadow-sweets exhale,
And the white valerians load the gale.
I know the spot the bees love best,
And where the linnet has built her nest.
I know the bushes the grouse frequent,
And the nooks where the shy deer browse the bent.
I know each tree to thy fountain head--
The lady birches, slim and fair;
[Illustration]
The feathery larch, the rowans red,
The brambles trailing their tangled hair;
And each is link'd to my waking thought
By some remembrance fancy-fraught.
[Illustration]
Yet, lovely stream, unknown to fame,
Thou hast oozed, and flow'd, and leap'd, and run,
Ever since Time its course begun,
Without a record, without a name.
I ask'd the shepherd on the hill--
He knew thee but as a common rill;
I ask'd the farmer's blue-eyed daughter--
She knew thee but as a running water;
I ask'd the boatman on the shore
(He was never ask'd to tell before)--
Thou wert a brook, and nothing more.
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