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The Mountain Torrent

From many a fountain
And soakage wide
On the rain-wooing mountain
The waters glide.

Like serpents entwining
The roots of trees,
Their forces combining,
They race for the leas.

E’er downward, and veering
Now south, now east,
Complaining and cheering.
They froth like yeast.

O’er ledges they tumble,
Down steps they pour,
And gurgle and rumble.
And loudly roar.

To a swirling pool under
The lofty cone,
A dozen streams thunder
And form in one.

With spray it bespatters
The maiden-hair,
And it leaps up and shatters
The spider’s lair.

Through marvellous changes
It rolls along,
While it sings to the ranges
Its lulling song.

It purrs to the cattle,
It laughs thro’ the dell,
And it greets with its prattle
The sweet blue bell.

With delicate fingers
It bathes the wings
Of the wagtail that lingers
O’er it and sings.

It plays with the grasses,
It toys with the frond,
And bestows on the lasses
Caresses fond.

Through green valleys gleaming
Its breadth extends
Till, sluggishly dreaming,
It seaward trends.

There afoot and by saddle,
Through flowerful ways,
Come the children to paddle
On sunny days.

The frolicsome laughter
Of lad and lass
Doth linger long after
The waters pass.

And the torrent grown sober
And wise in June,
From the romp of October,
Thus shapes its tune:

“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 a dull motion
I drift to sea
As will you to the ocean
Eternity.

“Then gambol ere trouble
Upon your stream;
For your youth’s but a bubble
Your life a dream.”

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