by Henrietta Cordelia Ray
The gurgling waters foam and play,
And whirl and dash the live-long day
In jets of spray.
They roll and dance, and laugh and sing,
They are forever on the wing,
A restless thing!
What tale of pathos do they tell,
As onward they tumultuous swell, —
Is it a knell,
A lay of love, or joy or woe,
Enacted in the long ago?
We cannot know!
The emerald waters rage and boil,
And madly whirl in wild turmoil,
Is theirs: they hint of strange unrest,
The foamy waves upon their breast
Seem sore distrest.
They leap and toss their mad caps high,
They rave and plunge and sadly sigh;
Yet to the sky
Their weird antiphonies ascend,
And with celestial anthems blend,
As up they wend.
Last updated March 26, 2023