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Project Gutenberg Australia HomeReturn to Index of Poems
Far up in the niches
Of the mountain side,
The pine and the cedar
Wee fountains hide.
Whose waters all sparkle
In the midday sun,
When, gathered together,
They downward run.
Over ledges they tumble,
Into pools they pour,
And gurgle and rumble,
And loudly roar.
Like a reptile entwining
The bared roots of trees,
Their forces combining,
They race for the leas.
To a swirling pool under
The lofty cone,
A thousand streams thunder,
And form into one.
Ever singing and foaming,
To south and north,
It onward goes roaming,
Milk-white with froth.
Its spray bespatters
The maiden hair,
And leaps up and shatters
The spider’s lair.
It purrs to the cattle,
It laughs thro’ the dell,
And greets with its prattle
The sweet blue-bell.
With delicate fingers
It bathes the wings
Of each birdie that lingers
O’er it and sings.
It plays with the grasses,
It toys with the frond,
And bestows on the lasses
Caresses fond.
Thro’ e’er changing scenery
It rolls along,
And sings to the greenery,
Its lulling song.
Thro’ valleys bright gleaming
Its breadth extends,
And sluggishly dreaming
To seaward trends.
To list to its whisper
Wee children came,
That scarcely could lisp a
Fond mother’s name.
And yet the glad laughter
Of lad and lass
Doth echo long after
The waters pass.
“While free from all sadness,
Child, laugh and play,
For youth and its gladness
Will pass away.
“Like you, I went dancing
With gladsome song,
And purling and prancing
The whole day long.
“Now with dreary dull motion
I drift to the sea,
As will you to the ocean
Of eternity.
“Then gambol ere trouble
Upon you stream,
For your youth’s but a bubble,
Your life a dream.”
Edward S. Sorenson
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