The stream meanders to and fro. <br />Here where the cattle come to drink <br /> the yellow cowslips gaily grow. <br /> <br />The weeping willows stooping low <br /> adorn the banks on either side. <br />The stream continues in its flow. <br /> <br />Past meadows where the cattle graze <br /> and fields where corn is ripening <br /> but here and there red poppies blaze. <br /> <br />The stream now to a river grown <br />now deep and wide; it gathers strength <br />Its purpose to itself unknown. <br /> <br />Past cottages which stand alone. <br /> Small villages and market towns <br /> and bridges built of weathered stone. <br /> <br />It has become a thoroughfare <br /> which slices through the city’s heart <br />With rush and bustle everywhere. <br /> <br />The docks and quays and factories <br /> confine the river in its course. <br />There is no grass there are no trees. <br /> <br />The river flows on turgidly <br />until at last it gains release <br /> and flows into the open sea. <br /> <br />But in the distance still the stream <br />meanders gently to and fro <br />Where cowslips nod and lovers dream.<br /><br />ivor or ivor.e hogg<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/journeys-end-3/
