SMALL current of the wilds afar from men, <br />Changing and sudden as a baby's mood; <br />Now a green babbling rivulet in the wood, <br />Now loitering broad and shallow through the glen, <br />Or threading 'mid the naked shoals, and then <br />Brattling against the stones, half mist, half flood, <br />Between the mountains where the storm-clouds brood; <br />And each change but to wake or sleep again; <br />Pass on, young stream, the world has need of thee; <br />Far hence a mighty river on its breast <br />Bears the deep-laden vessels to the sea; <br />Far hence wide waters feed the vines and corn. <br />Pass on, small stream, to so great purpose born, <br />On to the distant toil, the distant rest.<br /><br />Augusta Davies Webster<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-brook-rhine/
