The willow and the river
Ripple with silver speech,
And one refrain forever
They murmur each to each:
"Brook with the silver gravel,
Would that your lot were mine;
To wander free, to travel
Where greener valleys shine—
Strange ventures, fresh revealings,
And, at the end—the sea!
Brook, with your turns and wheelings,
How rich your life must be."
"Tree with the golden rustling,
Would that I were so blessed,
To cease this stumbling, jostling,
This feverish unrest.
I join the ocean's riot;
You stand song-filled—and free!
Tree, with your peace and quiet,
How rich your life must be."
The willow and the river
Ripple with silver speech,
And one refrain forever
They murmur each to each.