Which she with precious vialed liquors heals. And throw sweet garland wreaths into her stream In hard-besetting need; this will I try, Song Sabrina fair, Listen where thou art sitting Under the glassy, cool, translucent wave, Listen and save. Listen and appear to us In name of great Oceanus, By th' earth-shaking Neptune's mace, Wherewith she sits on diamond rocks, By all the nymphs that nightly dance And bridle in thy headlong wave, Till thou our summons answered have. Listen and save. Sabrina rises, attended by Water-Nymphs, and sings By the rushy-fringed bank, Where grows the willow and the osier dank, Thick set with agate, and the azure sheen That in the channel strays; Whilst from off the waters fleet, Milton. Chalvey Chalvey stream, dear Chalvey stream, Would think you worth a minstrel's dream, I sing your praises undeterred; In days when sight was sharper, Another Jordan was preferred To Abana and Pharpar. A mile across the level land So cool and calm, from hidden springs, Sweet sights, sweet scents around you. You ripple on 'neath summer skies, By weir and lock, by bridge and mill, Then waking after fevered days, The air intoxicates like wine, The flying sail, the hissing brine (B 838) 16 Oh, in that larger place, amid The ecstasy of motion, When you are free and fearless, hid When fond constraint to freedom yields, The quiet source that bore you. O Chalvey stream, dear Chalvey stream, What though to careless eyes you seem I'm not ashamed to call you friend, To own our fond relations, Like all things mortal you depend On your associations. A. C. Benson. S Two Rivers AYS Tweed to Till "What gars ye rin sae still?" Says Till to Tweed "Though ye rin with speed And I rin slaw, For ae man that ye droon I droon twa". Anon. Dartside CANNOT tell what you say, green leaves, But I know that there is a spirit in you, I cannot tell what you say, rosy rocks, But I know that there is a spirit in you, I cannot tell what you say, brown streams, But I know that in you too a spirit doth live, "Oh green is the colour of faith and truth, And rose the colour of love and youth, And brown of the fruitful clay. Sweet Earth is faithful, and fruitful, and young, And you shall know what the rocks and the streams Charles Kingsley. Lynmouth CODY HAVE brought her I love to this sweet place, Far Around my love and me the brooding hills, |