The River And The Hill

But it wandered along with a wearisome song

Like a lover that walks in a dream:

So the roses blew

When the winds went through,

In the moonlight so white and still;

But the river it beat

All night at the feet

Of a cold and flinty hill -

Of a hard and senseless hill!

I said, "We have often showered our loves

Upon something as dry as the dust;

And the faith that is crost, and the hearts that are lost -

Oh! how can we wittingly trust?

Like the stream which flows,

And wails as it goes.

Through the moonlight so white and still,

To beat and to beat

All night at the feet

Of a cold and flinty hill -

Of a hard and senseless hill?

"River, I stay where the sweet roses blow,

And drink of their pleasant perfumes!

Oh, why do you moan, in this wide world alone,

When so much affection here blooms?

The winds wax faint,

And the moon like a saint

Glides over the woodlands so white and still!

But you beat and you beat

All night at the feet

Of that cold and flinty hill -

Of that hard and senseless hill!"