Little brook, little brook,You have such a happy look,Such a very merry manner as you swerve and curve and crook;And your ripples, one by one,Reach each other's hands and runLike laughing little children in the sun!Little brook, sing to me,Sing about a bumble-beeThat tumbled from a lily-bell and mumbled grumblinglyBecause he wet the filmOf his wings and had to swim,While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.Little brook, sing a songOf a leaf that sailed alongDown the golden braided center of your current swift and strong,And the dragon-fly that litOn the tilting rim of it,And sailed away, and wasn't scared a bit!And sing how oft in gleeCame a truant boy like meWho loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,Till the gurgle and refrainOf your music in his brainCaused a happiness as deep to him as pain!Little brook, laugh and leap!Do not let the dreamer weep;Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep;And then sing soft and lowThrough his dreams of long ago,Sing back to him the rest he used to know.—Anon.
Little brook, little brook,You have such a happy look,Such a very merry manner as you swerve and curve and crook;And your ripples, one by one,Reach each other's hands and runLike laughing little children in the sun!Little brook, sing to me,Sing about a bumble-beeThat tumbled from a lily-bell and mumbled grumblinglyBecause he wet the filmOf his wings and had to swim,While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.Little brook, sing a songOf a leaf that sailed alongDown the golden braided center of your current swift and strong,And the dragon-fly that litOn the tilting rim of it,And sailed away, and wasn't scared a bit!And sing how oft in gleeCame a truant boy like meWho loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,Till the gurgle and refrainOf your music in his brainCaused a happiness as deep to him as pain!Little brook, laugh and leap!Do not let the dreamer weep;Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep;And then sing soft and lowThrough his dreams of long ago,Sing back to him the rest he used to know.—Anon.
Little brook, little brook,You have such a happy look,Such a very merry manner as you swerve and curve and crook;And your ripples, one by one,Reach each other's hands and runLike laughing little children in the sun!
Little brook, little brook,
You have such a happy look,
Such a very merry manner as you swerve and curve and crook;
And your ripples, one by one,
Reach each other's hands and run
Like laughing little children in the sun!
Little brook, sing to me,Sing about a bumble-beeThat tumbled from a lily-bell and mumbled grumblinglyBecause he wet the filmOf his wings and had to swim,While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.
Little brook, sing to me,
Sing about a bumble-bee
That tumbled from a lily-bell and mumbled grumblingly
Because he wet the film
Of his wings and had to swim,
While the water bugs raced round and laughed at him.
Little brook, sing a songOf a leaf that sailed alongDown the golden braided center of your current swift and strong,And the dragon-fly that litOn the tilting rim of it,And sailed away, and wasn't scared a bit!
Little brook, sing a song
Of a leaf that sailed along
Down the golden braided center of your current swift and strong,
And the dragon-fly that lit
On the tilting rim of it,
And sailed away, and wasn't scared a bit!
And sing how oft in gleeCame a truant boy like meWho loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,Till the gurgle and refrainOf your music in his brainCaused a happiness as deep to him as pain!
And sing how oft in glee
Came a truant boy like me
Who loved to lean and listen to your lilting melody,
Till the gurgle and refrain
Of your music in his brain
Caused a happiness as deep to him as pain!
Little brook, laugh and leap!Do not let the dreamer weep;Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep;And then sing soft and lowThrough his dreams of long ago,Sing back to him the rest he used to know.—Anon.
Little brook, laugh and leap!
Do not let the dreamer weep;
Sing him all the songs of summer till he sink in softest sleep;
And then sing soft and low
Through his dreams of long ago,
Sing back to him the rest he used to know.
—Anon.