Make way, make way, <br />You thwarting stones; <br />Room for my play, <br />Serious ones. <br /> <br />Do you not fear, <br />O rocks and boulders, <br />To feel my laughter <br />On your broad shoulders? <br /> <br />So you not know <br />My joy at length <br />Will all wear out <br />Your solemn strength? <br /> <br />You will not for ever <br />Cumber my play: <br />With joy and son <br />I clear my way. <br /> <br />Your faith of rock <br />Shall yield to me, <br />And be carried away <br />By the song of my glee. <br /> <br />Crumble, crumble, <br />Voiceless things; <br />No faith can last <br />That never sings. <br /> <br />For the last hour <br />To joy belongs: <br />The steadfast perish, <br />But not the songs. <br /> <br />Yet for a while <br />Thwart me, O boulders; <br />I need for laugher <br />Your serious shoulders. <br /> <br />And when my singing <br />Has razed your quite, <br />I shall have lost <br />Half my delight.<br /><br />Lascelles Abercrombie<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-stream-s-song/
